The Hunt of Five
by Insert a Catchy Penname Here
Summary: By the break of dawn, I'll be on the move again. My goal is to find THEM, the other kids who came to this planet with me. THREE of them are dead, and there are FIVE left. No matter it costs, I will find THEM and the second ship that left our DESTROYED planet, and we WILL defeat the enemy. We WILL go home, even if it costs us EVERYTHING.
1. Introduction

The Hunt of Five 1

The blood is streaming freely, running down the back of my neck and sticking to my sweating, heaving back and shoulders.

Stumbling almost blindly to my feet, I dive for the only opening I see, the space between his arm and his side. I dig my knife into his ribs, pushing with a solid shove and rolling off before he could grab and snap my neck. Ash suddenly covers my face and body, and I stumble my way through the underbrush, and I can feel my blood starting to clot around my exhausted body. I finally collapse on a bed of what appears to be moss and roots, slipping in and out of consciousness as I stare the top of the tropical overhead at this part in South America.

I have been running for my life ever since our Loric ship touched down on Earth several years ago.

In the beginning, I had a Cepan, Jemstone, and her six-year-old daughter, Summer, was hidden away on the extra ship along with the baby of one of the Elders. Summer wasn't supposed to be coming with us, but Jemstone was desperate. I can even remember that for my young age, watching, horrified, as my only home in the universe, once so beautiful and powerful, was destroyed into war, death, blood, screams, and destruction.

The Mogodorians did this to us.

_They'll pay for this…_I remember thinking as I stared out the window of our ship, staring into the blank, dark space, _all of those stupid Mogs will pay for this. _

I was still a child, though. I never fully understood at that time what danger I was already setting myself up for, I knew that I was willing to fight all of them and come back home one day.

There were other children on the ship. A boy about my age who was always being harassed by a girl with olive hair and dark skin; a blonde girl who tended to cry for fear a lot. There was a boy with long black hair who was always really annoying, and a boy with short hair who seemed to get along very well with the girl with the olive skin. There were three others, too, but I don't remember much about them.

But I still do.

I remember sitting with them all, being coaxed out of the corner by Jemstone to eat at a large, white table. I didn't want to be around them; I wanted my parents, and I wanted to fight the ones who destroyed my planet. I remember all of the Cepans smiling at us, worry etched in their eyes I couldn't see back then but I do now in my memories, trying to keep us all calm.

There was always the edge something would happen before we reached Earth.

We separated almost instantly when we all got out of the rocket. Somebody hugged me, the boy with the long black hair, and the other Cepans did, too. Jemstone found Summer, and the three of us stumbled our way into the darkness, blindly, heading far away from the other children.

I remember asking if I could go back and tell the boy with dark hair to never touch me ever again, but Jem said they were couldn't ever go back near any of them ever again.

Now I'm collapsed in a tropical forest of South America, trying to avoid attention. I lifted a ton of slab off of an elderly man in Argentina, then ran the second I could. No attention is what Jem always said to Summer and I, and so that's what I hold onto and go by every day.

I touch the burnt parts in my leg, still trying to figure out what they mean. All I know is that, up until about a year ago, there was nothing that the Mogodorians could do to me that wouldn't end up killing them. I was invincible to their power, and I instantly went around, killing as many as it took to get my point across to them I was clever and I was strong.

But now something has happened to make me start being affected, so now I have to be extra careful. I am completely alone, and there's not much I can use to protect myself from their army at this point.

When I started to get hurt, I decided to stop trying to fight them as much and start running, to stay completely hidden in corners and shadows, looking for somebody to explain things to me. Most of what has happened is confusing to me, and there is a lot I can't explain.

There are two things I know for certain, though.

1.) The Mogodorians are bloodthirsty, and they want to kill me. They somehow have something to do with these Loric-looking symbols burned in my leg, and I have to kill them before they kill me.

2.) I have to find the other kids that were on that ship and get some answers before we're all gone.

* * *

When I wake up, the house is completely quiet, which makes me uneasy. After all that has happened and changed recently, the peace is almost unreal, and it sets me more uncomfortable than the action of fighting the Mogs or trying to reunite all of the Numbers.

All of us are united, except for one.

Number Five is somewhere in South America, according to my tablet. It's obvious she moves around a lot, since she was in Jamaica two days ago, then was traveling the Atlantic Ocean yesterday. When Henri and I were still together, I'd read an article about the girl who lifted a two-ton pound of slab off of an elderly man, then could not be found for interviewing. There was no doubt she was one of us, and now it's certain that she is Number Five.

We need to find her before Setratus Ra does.

Now that the charm is broken, any of us can die at any given time. Before, we had a spell cast on all of us that meant we could only die in numerical order. I am Number Four, and when Numbers One, Two, and Three were killed, I knew I was next.

But I'm in an old, worn-out, long since abandoned farm house with the other remaining numbers, with the addition of a girl who was baby from the second ship that left Lorien, Number Ten, Ella. She and Number Seven, Maria, are sharing a bed up the old, creaky steps that make up the boards of this home. Number Eight is passed out on the couch, and Number Nine has made himself at home in the second bedroom upstairs while Number Six sleeps in inside of the third room.

I have the ground floor bedroom, which I ended up sharing with my girlfriend, Sarah Hart. We were both a little shy about the idea of having to share a bed, but Nine ended up bugging the crap of us until we finally did.

"C'mon, Johnny!" he'd said, punching me in the shoulder, "you've talked about this girl all the time, and now you don't even want to cuddle with her? You're not virgin, are you?"

This had made both us embarrassed and made me pretty angry at him, but I dropped it after a little while. Getting into a fight with Nine was pointless, now that were all so close together and needed to work as a team in order to wake Lorien from his hibernation and restore our home.

But first, we needed to find Number Five. And Sam Goode, my best friend still trapped somewhere with the U.S. government.

When we ran from the government facility in New Mexico, we'd teleported back to America with the help of Eight, who had a pretty good knack for finding blue Loric transportation stones. After a run-in with Setratus Ra that almost cost us Ella and Sarah, there was no time to try and find him in the prison cells.

But I will not abandon my best friend, no matter what I have to do to find him and get him safe.

Just like Sarah, he's only human. They don't have Legacies like we do, and they barely stand a chance against their government, much less the Mogodorians trying to conquer their planet, and every planet in the universe. I've gotten myself mixed in with them and fallen in love with Sarah, and now I have to keep them alive at any and all costs of my own.

"Hey you," Sarah's blue eyes open groggily as she smiles at me, planting a soft kiss on my cheek, "did you sleep any last night?"

I just shrug. Even though the couple of times I've allowed myself to sleep have been dreamless of run-ins with Setruatus Ra, it still makes me uneasy to sleep. These run-ins are horribly and haunting realistic if not completely real in a sense, and the reality of them gets harsher each time I wake up.

I kiss Sarah back, though, glad she's at my side again. Nine did have a point; I did think about her and talk about her a lot when she was at the Mogs mercy. They will pay for what they've done to her, to Sam, and to all of us.

Loud banging on the bedroom door makes both of us jump, and Sarah grips my arm before I hear a familiar laugh, "Wakey wakey!"

"Nine…" I grumble under my breath, rolling off of the bed and pulling on a fresh shirt from my Chest as Sarah makes her way into the bathroom to straighten out her own clothes and fix her hair.

As I make my way into the kitchen, I see that Marina and Ella have been cooking. Three plates of eggs are on the large wooden table that is set off to the side of the Spanish-tile kitchen island and the rest of the kitchen. Out of the entire house, the kitchen/dining room section is nicest, simply because the tiles and the light from the big window just in front of the table gives it a more modern feel.

"Good morning," Ella chirps, and I smile to her weakly as I sit down beside Six, who seems to be attempting to inhaule her plate of food.

"Remember to breathe," I joke lightly, but she doesn't pay much attention.

When I taste the food, I can't blame her for not responding.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?" I know Marina was in a orphanage for most of the time here on Earth, but I have to say, the cooking skills she apparently picked up there were impressive.

"We had to work the kitchen a lot," there's a certain edge to her voice, one that says she's glad to be free but one that also says it was familar to her.

All of us are soon sitting at the table, savoring the taste and the sunrise. We're apparently all used to waking up at the crack of dawn, even though we're actually not, meaning we're all decent enough to eat at the very least. It surprises me that Nine seems to most awake out of all of us; I would think he'd sleep in the most. Then again, I don't understand how his minds works, and I've been longsense trying to stop trying too.

"So, where is Five now, Johnny Boy?" Nine asks after shoving another piece of toast in his mouth, making Marina and Ella both recoil a little as I pull out my tablet again, scanning the screen for a moment.

"It looks like in South America," holding up the screen, I let others study it for a moment. Eight is the first to break out into a wide grin as he gets to his feet, tipping his plate in the sink quickly and running a hand through his black curls.

"Well then," he suddenly announces, "what are we waiting for? Let's hit the road!"

* * *

Apparently the Mogodorian I killed early had some friends.

A _lot _of friends.

I am struggling with my wounds, and they seem to notice it. They are clawing at my blind sides, laughing manically and seeming to enjoy toying with me. Clenching my fists to my side, I start wrestling around with my all, not caring it's opening wounds that are still fresh. Somehow, I manage to kill most of them before I find an opening.

Ducking between the Mogodorian's legs just as he was about to attack my blood-drenched back, I manage to knock it out of his grasp and slash his own back. Ash covers me as I make history of the few remaining, smirking as I do so at their surprise and franticness to live.

But the smirk is short lived; I'm wounded even worse than before.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see who appears to be the lone surrvior of the fight disappearing. He knows that I'm pretty much helpless, and that's going to end up getting me killed. I know that I just got here from across the ocean, but now I'm going to have to move again unless I want to die. It's a shame, too: I actually thought for a moment I was actually to like living in this place for a little while.

It can't be helped that I'm hunted, though.

I try to shove this emotions back down as I stumble to my feet. The bleeding has stopped considerably, and I'll be able to walk a little, at least to find shelter for the night. By daybreak, though, I'll be headed somewhere else again, hopefully unnoticed by the humans who live here.

Now my only concerns are where I'm going, how I'll get there, and how fast I can get knocked off the map.


	2. On the Move

The Hunt of Five 2

The wound is seeming to eat my entire side alive.

My shirt keeps it covered, but it's seemingly on fire. I learned quickly that there is no wound worse than one by the blade of Mogodorian sword, and now it's making my grit my teeth and grip my armrests. A small girl looks up at me from where she'd sitting beside me, her amber eyes studying me curiously.

"What's wrong?" she inquires, and I force a little smile, then let my gaze dart to the window.

"Nothing is," it's obviously a lie, but I don't have to worry whether or not she buys it.

Or so I think.

"Excuse me!" she calls to an attendent walking down the aisle, offering drinks and snacks to the passengers, "this lady is hurt!"

Crap.

"Is everything alright, miss?" the attendant inquires, her eyebrows scrunched in real concern as she walks over to my quickly, her heels making no noise as she leans over me, a loose strand of her black hair brushing my cheek.

"Everything's fine," I force a larger smile, this time looking her in the eye, since I've had some practice lying, "don't worry about me. I just fell down a little while ago and got a bruise on my hip, that's all."

"Can I get you some ice?" she offers, so I nod and smile until she's walked away.

The second I'm out of her eyeshot, I scowl out of the window and lean back, trying to get comfortable. It was a nice offer by the lady, but ice isn't going to help this kind of cut. It might even reopen it, and if it bleeds like it bled earlier, I'm in a trouble. The little girl looks at me again, her forehead creased just like the lady's was as she reaches out to touch my shoulder gently.

"I'm sorry...did I say something wrong?" her lower lip is stuck out in a small pout, and I can't help but feel my anger melt away.

"It's fine," I try to assure best I can when I'm annoyed, and even though it doesn't look like she believe that totally, it seems to comfort her a little bit, at least.

* * *

"Wait," Marina is the first to protest, and when he looks to her, I see a light blush playing on her cheeks, "we can't just stop everything and go to South America...can we?"

Six shakes her head, "No. Even if it is for another Garde member, we still need time to organize and train. The Mogodorians will undoubtly be after her by now, and we are in no condition to go fight a fleet of them right now."

She's right, of course. With all of our injuries as well as Ella and Sarah still being shaken up after their near deaths, we would all surely die in battle. After getting to know all of them, I know their scars being burned into my leg will be the most painful.

But Eight's right: We can't just leave Five, wherever he or she is now, hanging.

"But...what if he or she dies?" Ella asks slightly timidly from where she's sitting between Marina and her, and I see a hint of softness in Six's eyes for a moment.

"They've held their own for this long," even though she says that, probably to set our minds at ease, we all know deep inside that the Mogodorians are getting much stronger, just like we are. They've even allied with the U.S. goverment, meaning we are running from a double-threat now.

"Maybe we could split up," the idea is innocent enough from Sarah, but that wouldn't be the best thing to do.

"If we're not strong enough to defeat the Mogs with all of us together..." I tell her as gently, "we'll die if we split up again. Besides, we swore to never be apart after we all met up again."

She just nods, looking a little a disappointed, and we all become silent. I look to Nine, a little surprised he hasn't some kind of rude/sarcastic remark before saying something that was completely true. But he's as silent as I am, meaning we're all completely unsure on what to do about Number Five.

"Number Five is constantly on the move," Eight finally points out, pulling the tablet out of my hands and showing all of us the moving dot, "so we'll need to quick to pin him or her before they go somewhere else."

"Wait..." Ella sits forward suddenly, pointing to the first small virtual pin I'd made to show where'd he/she had been, since they probably wouldn't go to the same place more than once, and I'd been right, "it forms a pattern!"

Now that I'm looking at it a little closer, I realize she's right. I wonder if Five was doing it on purpose, or if it was a concidence. Probably the later, since the blue dot if moving away from the dot they're supposed to land on to make the pattern. It is a twirl, an ancient Loric symbol that is burned into every one of our legs that burns when touched. To follow said pattern, Five should land near the area she was in before to create a dot in the symbol. But she is going far away, far from where'd she'd been before, and the dot is drifting close to Antarticia.

I silent give him/her props: Antarticia is a very out of the place with an extremely cold climate. I'm not sure if Five knows it, but Mogodorians don't like the cold and are very low-tolerant of it. That's why their home planet is very hot and the atmosphere is thin, and why the more frozen parts of Lorien weren't attacked first, according to Henri.

"I wonder what this means," Marina thought aloud, and silence settles over us all once again for a few minutes.

"Well..." Nine finally speaks up as he stands up himself, striding beside where Eight is still leaned over the table from studying the symbol, "it means that we have definately found her. And it means she's Loric, whether she knows it or not, _and _that she just might be the future placeholder of one of the strongest Elders."

* * *

As predicted, the ice doesn't help my wound.

But I hold it there to keep the attendent and the little girl happy as I stare out of the window, trying to will the plane to go faster. The Mogodorians do terrify me, and if they were to attack while I'm here in the air, many people will die. And if the something was to happen to the piliot and the plane crashed, not only would they die, but so would I.

And I refuse to die until I get some answers.

The little girl is drifting off beside me, so I deem it safe to drop the ice pack on the floor and lean back myself. It may or may not be risky to sleep here, but exhaustion is going to help me right any better. Sighing and shivering as I feel the climate around me cool with each passing second, I let myself slip into a vivid dream that wasn't just only a dream, but a haunting memory.

* * *

_**Flashback **_

_"Hey!" I complain loudly, reaching for my teddy bear and pouting, "give that back!" _

_"No!" Summer whines back in reply, pouting herself and clutching my toy close to her chest defensely, "you always get to play with Teddy! Mine!" _

_"No, mine!" narrowing my eyes, I reach for it again, managing to grab a foot before she yanks it back to her side of the car. We are quickly jerking it back and forth, yelling at each other to let go and to give it to one another at the same time. _

_Suddenly, Jemstone snaps loudly, causing both of us to jerk our heads toward her in unison. She looks at us with a half exhausted, half annoyed face through the review mirror, which makes Summer duck her head and me scowl a little bit. _

_"If you two worked together as well as you do fight..." she sighs, "both of you would be industructable." _

_At this comment, I look to the other seven-year-old in the backseat with me. Like her, I'm small for my size, and we're both very skinny and somewhat used to be hungry two or three days at the time. We had it rough, but even then I had a pretty good idea that Jemstone had it worse. Not only was she trying to keep me alive, since that was her job from the second she was assigned to me, but she was also trying to keep her own daughter alive as well as herself. _

_Even though we were all somewhat frail, both of them were beautiful. Jem had dark brown hair she always wore in a high bun with her bangs waving down the legnth of her face and down to her chin, and her eyes were a stormy blue that sparked when she was angry and darkened like thunderclouds when she was tired or annoyed. Summer's eyes matching hers, and they shared the same facial features as well as limbs. However, Sum's hair was a dishwater blonde and she had a more relaxed build, while Jem's build was made for exersise and running._

_"You can play with him," it _was _mine, but I decide to let her play with it for a little while, since she doesn't have many toys either. _

_"Thank you," she chirps, then she reaches down and hands me a small soccer ball from her small pink suitcase, "you can play with this!" _

_"Thank you," I smile, even though I truthfully didn't want to toss a stupid ball up and down in my lap. _

_But both of them are smiling now, so I do the same, even though it's forced. I want to keep them happy best I can, and being only seven, it's the best way I know how right now. _

_It seems to be good enough, though. _

* * *

_**Present Time **_

The suddenly warmth pressed up against my side is the thing that makes me up.

Opening my eyes groggily, I find the little girl pressed to my side. She looks like a small angel, with her red-blonde hair wrapped around her small body and her little eyelids closing stunning blue-green eyes. She's adorable, and I can't help but shift myself so she can tuck herself under my arm comfortably as she sleeps on heavilly. For some reason, I feel connected to this cutie somehow, and I decide to keep her safe for as long as I can.

It's going to be risky, and I know I will have to leave her when we touch down. But for now, I'm going to get her away from any harm. I wonder for a moment where her family is, but quickly disgaurd to question as her eyes flutter a bit.

It's not my buisness who she is, where she came from, or why she's going to such a lonely place in the world.

All I need to know is her name, how old she is, and where I can eventually leave her.


	3. A place to call Home

The Hunt of Five 3

The heater roaring to life over my head makes me jump slightly as my eyes snap open. Exhaling loudly, I sit up, propping up myself with one elbow, and run a hand through my hair. The suddenly drop in the temperature that the heater hasn't warmed up yet tells me we're close to landing, even before the pilot announces it on the intercom.

"Hmmm?" the little girl moans beside me, opening her stunning eyes as she looked up at me, "what's going on?"

"We're going to land soon," I reply, pulling my heavy coat over my upper torso and looking her over, raising an eyebrow, "is that all you're wearing outside?"

She is only wearing a thin black sweater, which makes her cheeks radiate with a small pink tint as she looks down at her lap, "I don't have anything else...I'm an orphan."

An orphan, huh? That explained where her parents were, but it didn't explain why she was going to a place where she was going to freeze to death without more protection from the bitterness than what she has now. Even though I know I'll probably regret it for my own health, I take off the top heavy coat I've already pulled on and slip in on her small shoulders, making her body tilt forward with the extra wieght before she looks at me with surprise and gratefulness.

"Are you sure?" she sounds uncertain, but I just pat her head comfortingly.

"You stick with me, kiddo," I tell her with a small, reassuring smile, even though I already know this is a very bad idea, "I'll take care of you. You...don't have to be alone."

"Wow," the look on her face and tone in her voice tells me that she's amazed and flattered, "thank you...so much."

Smiling to her again, I pat her on the top of head and look out of the frosted-over window with a squint. There is white as far as the eye can see, even my eyes, which are enhanced beyond human. The air is still chilly, even with the heater roaring overheard, and it worries me a little bit. There aren't many humans in this place for reason; most of them freeze to death. This was certainly not the type of place for young children, and while the cold climate might keep the Mogs away, it means that the attacks will be in larger numbers, since it will take many of them to surrivive in this kind of atmosphere.

The threat just became larger for not only myself and this little girl, but for any human who has managed to exsist here. If an attack breaks through, I'm going to have to protect all of these people. It doesn't matter if they figure out that I'm an 'alien'; Anteratica isn't like every other place I've been to on Earth. Here, there really is nowhere to run and hide, and there is no quick way to safety.

Here, there is nothing.

* * *

_What are we going to do? _

That's the question going through everybody's heads right now, including my own. But it won't do any good to say it outloud; nobody will be able to answer that for sure. So I just wrinkle my brow, looking down at my lap and struggling to think of something that we might could use for an idea.

Six is right: We won't be able to fight them split up. But we can't just leave Number Five, whoever they are, out in the middle of nowhere. Papa taught me a lot of places on Earth when I was young, and I remember him saying Antertica was a very cold and very lonely place. I'm not sure why Five would want to go there other than them wanting to escape the Mogodorians, but they could still show up at any time, especially the leader.

I decide to clean up everybody's dishes, since it's pretty apparent we're all done eating at this point. When I come to Sarah and reach for her plate, she locks eyes with me and we share a shared thought: _We can't let them down again. _

Both of us came so close to dying because we were trying to help. Marina told me that it was okay, that we were safe and that was all that mattered, but I know it's not. It's wonderful that we're both still alive, but we can't charge head-first into things anymore. Next time we might not be so lucky, and I'll end up like Papa, to the point even Marina can't fix me.

And then where would we be?

* * *

I'm the first to step off of the plane, the little girl at my heels. Both of our bags are on our backs, and when I turn to help her down, she steps out and immediately slips on the ice. Reaching out with my naturally lightning reflexes, I catch her and guide her into the tourist welcome center. It's too warm in there for coats, but I decide to keep our two's with me instead of hanging it up on the coat rack. For some reason, this building sets me off ease, which makes my senses sharpen instantly.

"Name please?" a women perched on a high stool behind the counter at the front of the welcome inquires, pushing her secretary-looking glasses higher on her nose and perching the pen in her thin, old, shaky fingers.

"Emily Johnson," I say the name I'd already decided on while boarding the plane earlier, and she scribbles it down quickly in shaky, fancy-looking handwritting before looking to little girl and inquiring for her own name.

"Michele," she replies simply and softly, looking shy.

After she's gotten our names, (well, at least Michele's real one,), I wander to the wall covered in photos and caption of pretty much every Artic animal that can exsist on Earth. As I scan them, I can't help but think back to old pictures from Lorein that Jemstone had in a photo album she'd managed to get in her bag, to how our animals were much more magnificent, no matter what form they took.

"I like that one," Michele says softly, pointing to a picture of a creature called of a polar bear cub.

"He's cute," I admit before scanning over the rest of the photos, starting to take photos of them in my mind so I can remember any of the more agressive ones to use for more advantages while trying to temperarily adjust to this new place.

While she stared at the pictures, obviously blown away, I let my thoughts drift back to the children on the ship that fateful night my home was destroyed completely. I've got the feeling we can restore Lorien with a little work and faith, and even if _they _can't, I will see to it that I do.

Everyone wants a place to call their own home, after all.

* * *

"What do you think we should do, Marina?"

I decide to ask the person I trust the most after all, since she's so smart and strong. But she just frowns and shakes her head solemly, sitting beside me on our bed and creasing her brown thought once again. We're all stumped now, and that's not good at a time like this. Six was right that we all need to focus on getting stronger so we can defeat the Mogodorains and go to our real home, but still. I'm worried for Number Five; he/she must be so afraid, out there all alone.

I know I would be, at least.

* * *

Sitting around is not going to get us anywhere.

I've done just fine on my before, anyway, even when Johnny Boy was toted along with me. This time won't be any different, and I'll have Five back in no time at all. They won't even miss when I'm gone, and if any Mogodorians or goverment humans try to infer, I'll throw them even more off course than they are now.

Everything is set for my slip away. I already had it all figured out, even though I a pretty good feeling I was going to end up having to go off and do this alone anyway. But just as I'm about to open the door, a tiny hand grabs my wrist.


	4. Unexpected

The Hunt of Five 4

Author Note: You guys are all amazing and indescribably epic to me ^_^ Thank you for reviewing, please continue to do so :) Seriously...thank you so, so much T_T :) :D

P.S. I am still addicted to emotocons, can you tell? :P

* * *

**_Ten_**

I lock eyes with him and breathe out softly, "I want to come with you."

He raises his eyebrows skeptically at me through the darkness that has set over the house, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I raise my voice a little under an octave louder to be sure, squaring my shoulders best I can and looking him in the eye.

It's risky and treacherous, I know. My brush with death was very, very real, but I am doing my all to not let that slow me down. I can already tell the others are very strong and have high endurance, which means I'm going to have to do the same and help in any possible way I can, not only for them but for Papa as well. Now I'm determined to help again and lay my existence on the line for the last Garde member, and the last Loric alive.

"Sorry, kid. This is an 'adults only' kind of trip," his tone tells me he's smirking, and I can't help glare just a bit.

"Then you're not allowed to go, either," I counter calmly and smoothly, as I've heard Marina do on more than one occasion, and I imagine raising his eyebrows as his chuckle slips through the darkness briefly.

"Alright, you win," he concludes, "but you better not die."

Sounds simple enough to me, but that's not going to be easy….

* * *

**_Nine _**

The kid's got guts; I'll say that about her.

But her guts aren't really earned, like mine are. I've been fighting for my life ever since the ship touched down, and I can handle the Mogs alone. Even Johnny Boy could, but the kid, like Seven, isn't really trained to fight or to actually win a single battle, much less one alone. Her coming along is going to be a burden on my part, but it's better than wasting time arguing with her or having her try to follow me 'unnoticed'.

Maybe this'll be good for her, though.

* * *

**_Eight _**

The second I wake up, I know something's not right.

Shape-shifting into a fly, I make my way up the stairs, being pretty noiseless and unsuspected. Six is still asleep in her bed, John and Sarah are cuddling against each other; all is well with them. But Nine's bed is vacent, and after getting to know him a little better, it doesn't surprise me that he would run off by himself like that. Although, even I find it shocking when I peer into the girls' room and see the spot beside Marina empty.

* * *

_**Seven**_

My fingers glide subconsciencely across the smooth, warm sheets, seeking the comfort and warmth Ella brings me. Knowing that she's at my side, that she's safe and that I have something to fight for, it brings comfort to me somehow. I touch cold sheets, and my eyes flutter open, alertness washing over me at once. Maybe she just got hungry or thirsty, and tried to fix breakfast. Maybe she went for a walk, or maybe she's just in the bathroom.

But when I see Eight shifting back to regular form from a fly, looking grim, I realize that she's gone.

* * *

_**Six**_

Marina is almost hysterical as she knocks on all of our doors, bringing us all to the dining room table.

"Nine and Ella are both gone..." she's shaking as she slams her hands on the table, eyes splotchy and gradually refilling with tears, "Eight and I think they went after Five."

I just roll my eyes a little. In the time I've known him, I've noted that Nine has a cool and cocky persona to cover his own inner pain we all have deep inside of each other. He's confident in himself, and rightly so. He's a very strong fighter, and he's only going to improve from not training, but battle. He can probably handle getting Five, or at least we hope so, as long as he doesn't to battle Setratus Ra alone.

That even he and I can't handle.

But Ella's different. She had a brush with death, and she's trained like the rest of us, just like Marina. The two of them have a lot of catching up to do- that's that the cold, hard reality of it. For her to run off, even with the chance she's going to be protected by Nine, is extremely risky and dangerous. It leaves the rest of us with the equal reality that we are going to be on the run again, and that there's not time to train right now.

Now, we have to save what of little of Lorien we can.

* * *

_**Five**_

"I'm hungry..."

Michele mumbles this softly behind me as we wander aimslessly in a tiny, hidden away frozen section of a town that's not even on the map. I've completed one the most important parts in becoming truly invisible: I have gotten knocked off of the map.

Now I've got to become isolated.

But that's going to be tricky, now that I'm toting precious cargo along with me. She's pretty young, and one of my first instincts is to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Besides, she's an innocet human being, and I get the feeling she's just beginning the trust me. While it's the most wise choice to cut our budding friendship short now, I know it's not going to be easy.

It never is.

For now, though, I squint against the slurry snow flying in the air, "I think that shop is selling coffee. Maybe they'll have some hot chocolate."

Squeezing her tiny in my own, both for comfort and warmth, I guide her inside, heat blasting against my frozen face instantly. Shuddering as my snow-sheeted exposed skin thaws, I help her out of my jacket, folding it in my lap as she orders for us, a little of my money in her tiny fist. Sighing to myself while she's gone, I rack my brain of what I can do to shake her and not crush both of us in the process.

A child is a fragile thing, especially a child like her, where it won't take much time to have a friendship.

And where you can lose trust in a split second.

* * *

_**Four **_

The running has always been the worst part for me.

We're all piled in an old pickup now, not speaking as we all make our own plans and arrangements in our heads. Soon, we will share our thoughts, but for now, the silence is thick. Marina is gripping Six's arm in the back as Eight grips the steering well. I can see the worry in his eyes and in the two girls' as well before I switch my gaze to the old house. Our Chests are in our laps and our bags are at our feet, and I can only hope the fire with our IDs won't set the entire house on fire.

For some reason, I just don't have the heart to look back.


	5. Useless

The Hunt of Five 5

**_Five _**

Absently, I slide a tablet into Michele's hot chocolate mug while she's in the restroom.

This paticular mixture won't do her a lot of harm, but it will knock her out for a while. By doing that, it'll be easier to leave her at an orphanage or with a family who is willing to take her. It's easier to let someone go as quickly as possibly if you can't be with them for long; it's a lot less painful. Once said tablet fizzes up the drink with pink foam and settles back down to look like normal hot chocolate, I swig my own coffee and try to rub the exhaustion out of my eyes. The cut is aching, and the sharp pains when I lay back makes sleeping a challenge, so I haven't for a couple of days.

It's taking it's toll on me, but I'm pretty used to it at this point.

"Where are we going now, Emily?" Michele's voice brings me back to the here-and-now as she slids across from me, taking her mug and starting to drink, completely unaware of what else is inside it now.

"We'll need to find shelter," both of us have minumal clothing protection, and hyperthermia is a big risk right now.

"Okay," she nods slowly, her eyes starting to droop already. Since she's so small, it probably doesn't take a lot to affect her- I hope I didn't give her too large of a dosage.

"Come on," I scoop her in my arms, bundling my coat tighter around her small frame and starting back out into the cold, "let's get out of here."

* * *

**_Nine _**

The kid's having a hard time keeping up.

"C' mon," I urge impatiently, pausing to look back at her from halfway up the hill, "we'll get a ride in a couple of miles, but you've gotta keep the pace."

"I'm sorry..." she shakes her head, starting to go faster and stumbling, considering this uphill climb is pretty steep. If she ran around with her Cepan before, she should be used to walking a lot.

Part of me knows she's smaller, though, so I guess climbing heavy-duty would be harder.

"Whoah!" she gasps behind me, and I turn my head a little to see her stumbing again, falling flat.

Sighing, I turn fully to make sure she didn't die or anything. She's still on the ground, her face in some level of pain as she look to her arm. It's scratched up pretty good from all the times she's fallen in this steepy terrian, but the only way to learn and get good at something is to keep doing it.

"C' mon," I repeat, a little harder in tone, and she looks up to me with her big, sad brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, Nine," she whispers softly, and even I have to admit my heart melted just a little.

Not a lot, though.

"It's fine, but you have to keep up," I tell her, striding over and getting her to her feet easily, "...I know you can do this. You had a brush with death and you've gotten over it, so what's a few hills?"

A look of detirmination crosses her face as she starts trying to climb again, and I nod once as I go ahead. Like I said before, she's definately got guts and detirmination, which is a good thing. Maybe if she keeps this up, we both won't be dead by tomorrow morning.

* * *

_**Seven**_

Ella is gone.

I can only pray that she's with Nine, but who's to say he didn't abandon her, or that he took her with him in the first place? She's only eleven, and even though I know she's smart and she's fast, her Legacies are developing slowly. The only one she has is meant more for trickery than for fighting, and her telekensis is still weak. If she's still with Nine, I know he can handle a fight alone and win, but with (possibly) protecting her too...maybe even _he _can't handle that.

She probably wasnt kidnapped, at least; I would've waken up at that, even if I didn't from her slipping out of the bed. But the image of her out there, at alone with no Cepan, cold and scared...

"Marina," Six's voice has a certain firmness to it that is both strict, yet somehow assuring, "we're going to find her."

"Yeah," Eight agrees from where he's driving, even though his hands are still gripping the steering wheel and his eyes have a distinct worry in them, "we just have to keep our eyes open."

Nodding, I keep staring out of the window. Since we're all more advanced than human eyes, we can tell distinction between the blurr that you see when you're drying more than 10 miles an hour. So far there's only been trees, but at the slighest sign of human life we'll stop, even though there isn't any right now. I glance back over at Six, who's hands are still gripping mine. She'd grown to have a protective instinct over Ella herself, and it was obvious by the worry on her face that she's just as worried as I am. Gently, I squeeze her arm back, making her smile weakly as she glances back at me.

It's times like these I'm really glad we're friends.

_**Sarah **_

Even though the others don't seem to be, I'm worried for Nine just as much as I am for Ella.

He can fight- we all know that. But everybody has their limitations to what they can do, even at their best- just like John. It is probably kind of hard to protect me all the time, considering I'm not much of a much of a match against the superatural Mogodorians. I can imagine it's the same for him with her along, even though she's from Lorien as well, simply because she's not very trained, skilled, or strong, and because she's eleven.

_Eleven. _

I can only imagine what it must be like for them now, being by themselves and not knowing where they're going, and trying to find someone who could very well be dead right now.

Then again, that's kind of how we all feel in this truck right now.

* * *

_**Five **_

Michele is in a deep, deep sleep, just like she should be, but I'm still concerned it's _too _deep.

She's not responding much to when I shift her in my grasp or when I adjust her coat, which doesn't look like it's a very good sign. I'm not sure how she sleeps under normal circumstances, but even if she snoozes this heavy on regular baisis, it shoudn't be this thick. Obviously I can't really relate; I've always been on a light sleeper for fear of what might happen if I didn't wake up.

The wind is starting to pick up speed, making it a little harder to walk. My thin clothing protection is exposing me, and the frozen presipatation is eating the wound at my side alive. Red splotches begin to drip in the white ice on the ground, and I groan, cursing inwardly. The last thing in the face of this _Earth _I need is to leave a trail; that would be too easy for the Mogs to follow, obviously. Groaning inwardly, I stumble blindly further into the eye of this wild storm.

* * *

_**Ella**_

I don't want to be weak around him; I can't and I won't.

Out of all of them, I have to say I'm most impressed by Nine's fighting skills. He's tough, brave, and admirable in general, so of course I wouldn't want to look like a little kid in front of him, even if I kind of am one. We're out of the hills, at least, and he's crossing wires in a car from a nearby dealership. He calls it 'hotwiring' because we don't bring a lot of money with us, and I'm keeping lookout for him as the sun sets again, marking that we've been gone for a day.

"Kid," he says suddenly, and I turn to see him holding out his hand expectantly, "hand me the cover, would ya?"

"Oh," I blink, scooping up the covering for the wires just above the petals inside this car just as the engine roars to life.

After fastening it back on, he slids into the front smirk, grinning almost like a maniac and motioning with his head for me to get in myself. I've barely shut the door when he takes off, looking like he was both in a hurry and having the time of his life already. My hands fumble as I fasten my seatbelt- I'm definately going to need it with him in the driving seat- but it's pretty cool to do this and not be caught, at least for now.

Yes, I definately look up to him.

I'm going to do anything and everything I can to make him not regret taking me with him.

* * *

_**Five**_

The igloo looks vacent from what I can make out, but even after I notice the elk-skin bedding near a dim fire I collaspe, Michele still clutched to my heaving chest. The world is fuzzy and freezing; my hands are almost frozen to her small body. Through my eyes' stinging, frozen haze, I notice another dark form entering the same igloo, but darkness pulls me under to the point where I am useless.


	6. What's going on?

The Hunt of Five 6

_**Michele**_

It is very cold and wet, and I am finding it hard to breath.

Emily is curled up in a ball, looking like she's in the fetal position. Her face is pressed tightly against my shoulder, her frozen fingers locked around my arm as she sleeps heavily. I hope she is just sleeping- I don't want the same thing to happen to her that happened to Jessie. Slowly, I shake her; my hand is so cold I can barely feel it touching her shirt. Shuddering, I look to the man who owns this igloo, smiling a bit.

"Thank you very much," I try to be polite to him.

He grins, still not showing his face or hair- in fact, he is wearing a dark overcoat. He's not shivering like I am, but he isn't moving a lot, and he looks really weak and really cold, like he's going to die. After he saved us, I don't want him to die, so I press myself against him. He isn't warm at all, and just about to time I look to him, he grabs my neck and throws me into the side of the igloo. It's really hard, and I slid ontop of Emily, breathing really hard and my shoulder feeling it was about to explode. When I look at him, my vision is blurred and my lungs are on fire, making it even harder to breath.

_What's happening?!_

Emily is still not moving, and I shake her hard, trying to get her to wake up. The man is coming closer, even though he's going slowly, like every move hurts. Backing up, I grab the nearest thing- a block of ice. Gripping it hard, I throw it at his face, hitting his chest. A _whooshing _sound comes from him as he falls on his back, his head whipping around like he can't see me. Since it made him stop coming toward me the first time, I throw another handful of ice and snow at him, making his body jerk and start moving fast- spasming, I think it's called.

"Em!" I scream, shaking her _really _hard, "Emily, wake up! Please wake up!"

Her eyes suddenly fly open, but my relief doesn't last very long. The man got back up and has now grabbed my neck, but Em grabs his in return, bending it sharply to the side and snapping it. Something red leaks all over the snow as he falls from her hands, not moving and looking like Jessie did before a police officer told she was...

_Dead_.

"What's happening?" I ask Emily frantically, my eyes filling with tears.

"We have to get out of here," she says, sounding very upset but very calm; it's so confusing, "when did you wake up and how long was I out?"

"Um..." I think really hard, "um...I woke a little while ago. I'm not sure how long you were asleep.."

"That's fine," she waves her hand and picks me up, holding me really tight to her chest, "we'll be okay."

There's something about her face that tells me she's scared. Biting my lower lip, I wrap my arms around her neck tightly, trying to warm up a little. The really scary thing is, though, is that I can't feel the cold anymore. She looks at me, her face as hard as a rock, and I wonder if she can feel it to.

"Are you cold?" I finally ask.

She looks at me and sighs out, "No."

"...Niether am I."

After I say this, she starts to walk faster. I nestle against her, tears falling onto my numb cheeks as we start going further and further from the igloo. That man was dangerous, but ever since Jessie...

* * *

_**Nine**_

Even though it's impotant to find Five, this is a _sweet _ride, so why not enjoy it?

The kid is gripping the armrests on her chair, her knuckles white with holding on so tight, and I push her gently with one hand, making her tense more and me laugh loudly, "Lossen up."

She nods but doesn't, and I roll my eyes. It's almost like she doesn't trust me or something like that, but even if she doesn't, we're stuck together for a while. Resisting the urge to comment it was her decision to come with me, but I don't bother with it- she probably knows already. We travel in silence- it's abnormal for her, even though she's normally pretty quiet. She's a kid, and I wasn't ever that uptight or formal; it doesn't seem right.

"Yo, kid," I say, looking at the neon restraunt sign in the distance, "hungry?"

* * *

"Why so quiet?" I finally ask between bites of my third hamburger, "I mean, if you're going to stare, at least say something."

Her cheeks grow pink as she looks back to her bowl of soup. Rolling my eyes, I look over to three of the waitresses giggling about something in the distance. Two of them are average- both of them with pale skin and blonde hair, one with brown and one with light green, and both frail-looking. The third one, on the other hand, looks like a real catch- Wide hips, large chest, brown hair in a french braid, and dark blue eyes. She is busy with several tables at once, so I decide to give her a harder time by flagging her down with a raise of my hand.

"Add another hamburger to the bill," I tell her with a wry grin, then after glancing at Ella, I say, "and a piece of chocolate cake."

She looks up at me, seeming surprised, and I smirk as Beauty rolls her eyes. I get the impression she knows I'm screwing with her, but it's whatever; humans can't do much about it. When she's gone, the kid studies my face, like I'm some kind of booki.

"Do you mind?"

"Why did you do that?" wow, she's genuinely surprised.

"What? I can't do something nice every once and a while?" smirking, I reach over and ruffle up her hair, "like I said, lighten up. You don't have to act like I'm some kind of captator."

At that, she smiles thinly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean too."

She's still nervous, but we're both just going to have to do deal with that. Seriously, she acts like she's scared of me or something...

* * *

**_Marina _**

I dig my nails into my wrists, then release, over and over again. It's like a nervous habit, but it's almost soothing- rhymatatic. Maybe it's from being in the girls' orphanage so long, but rontinue has become a part of me almost, and with things going so fast, something vaguely familar or normal makes it easier to cope. Sarah is jiggling her leg nervously beside me, and when Six touches it gently to stop her, I am reminding of when I first met her, back when Ella and I were getting out of Santa Monica. The action, in other words, has brought back good and bad memories.

Eight suddenly swerves the car into a gas station and looks back at us, "If anyone needs a restroom break, now is the time."

"Everybody out!" Six declares, and all of us file it in suite behind her; it's almost like we're a regular family going on some kind of road trip, only Eight as the father is kind of distrubing.

My side feels vacent without Ella at my side, but Sarah seems to have makeshifted to take her place. The bitter feelings are still fading between her and Six ever since Virgina, and while her and John are basically unseperable at this point, it's natural enough to want to have a female compainion. The two of us wander around the store, since the bathroom has a line halfway wrapped around, looking at various snack foods and human children beg for them.

Something stirrs inside of me; it's hard to imagine at this point I could be like that, if I were a human or even if Lorien wasn't in hibernation. Any pictures of me when I was that have been burned from the files of the oprhanage or from the face of our planet, so it's a little hard to see myself in that position; it's especially hard when I can't remember much of my parents.

Shaking my head a little to try and clear my thoughts, I see the line has becoming shorter and slip in. Sarah looks at me curiously; probably reading my face and guessing something was bothering me a little. Shrugging in response to her gaze, I finally use the restroom and slip back into the car, earning a raised eyebrow from Eight.

"What's bothering you?" he asks, and I find myself blushing as Six smirks a little at my embarrassment.

"It's nothing," I shrug in response to him as well, resting my cheek against the car window glass, shutting my eyes and letting the world melt away.

* * *

_"That's very good, Marina," a tall women with short, sophisicated blonde hair smiles at me, looking down at a mess of finger paint swirls and lines all mixed together across several paper scattered across a polished wooden table. _

_"Pretty?" I ask hopefully, and she smiles, nodding encouragingly and sitting beside me, picking up one of the pictures that looks a little more neater._

_"This one's a beauty right here," she tells me, and I giggle and admire my work._

_"That ones you!" I point a blob that makes a vague stick person, "and thats Argentum..." Purple stick blob, "and thats Aurum!" (Orange stick blob.)_

_"I see," the women who I now regonize as my mother chuckles, and just about the time I'm wondering where my father was, a crash sounds too close and the vision ends._

**_*Vision end, line_ break***

* * *

I wake up in a cold sweat; everyone but Eight is staring at me.

"Was I...?" I begin, my hand going to my face to wipe away the sweat and finding tears rolling down my face.

"You were having a bad dream," Sarah says, her face lined with worry and her tone concerned, "what happened? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I nod slowly, coming out of a daze as I set up straight again, brushing my dyed blonde hair back and sighing quietly, "just...just a dream."

* * *

**_Five_**

Michele could've died just now, and now I'm detirmined more than ever to make sure that doesn't happen again.

I managed to get us to a hotel alive, but the affects aren't pretty. Her fingers are icey blue and so are various patches of skin around her face and arms, and my own bare arms are increasingly numb. A couple of severants met us instantly, much to my displeasure and relef, and both of their eyes go wide when they see the state that we're in. To them, I'm sure I'm going across as an older sister trying to save the younger, and that story might be our ticket to getting the help we need.

As much as I hate it, we do need help- Michele needs it more than I do or will accept, though.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" the brown-haired severant asks me worridley, and I shake my head weakly, falling to my knees half-dramtically and resting my forehead on Michele's stomach weakly, like I can barely keep my eyes open.

Even though the hotness of the room puts a heavy groggy, sleep-ready spell on me, I do my best to keep my senses alert as they lift me up by the arms, one of them taking Michele from the ground. We're led into a bright-lite room that smells like a doctor's clinic, and I feel hands examining me, which unnerves me. Even so, my dramatic skills come in handy as I stay slack, like I'm half alive. I've learned that while you can't trust humans too much or befriend them, their symapthay can get you out of some pretty sucky situations.

"She has slight hypothermia, she's dyhydrated..." a elderly man's voice mumurs as needles are stuck into my viens, which almost makes my eyes fly open instantly and blow my cover, "but with a little work, she'll be okay."

"What about the little one?" one of the severnt's inquires as the heat and medicine begin to pull me into a _real_ dark sleep.

There is silence, and just before I pass out, the elderly voice replies, "It depends."

* * *

I'm not sure how I long in simple motions: Wake up but don't open my eyes, be fed something warm, then lay for the rest time slipping in and out of darkness. My thoughts worry about Michele mostly, but they also go to the other Loric children. A lot of me has always wondered where they ended up and if they were okay, but I'd gotten my hints: The three scars in my leg, John Smith with the school being obliterated, a boy who climbed to move objects with his mind in the mountains.

Most of all, a govermental disater/war not too long ago with 'mutant freaks everywhere'.

That meant that I wasn't the only Loric left alive, and that also meant thatthere were somewhere relatively close to that area. My orginal intentions where to lay low here in Anterartica for a couple of weeks to shake the Mogs and do research, then to try to pin point where the others were/went. For some reason, I have very little doubt they're not seperated- maybe I can get some answers after that.

But I've (possibly) still got Michele to worry about, and it wouldn't be a good idea to leave her alone any more would it be a good idea to take her with me.

I make a final decision just as I'm dozing off again.

* * *

**_Author Note:_** So, I'm hoping you guys liked the longer chapter and longer point of views! :) R and R as always, and please tell me what YOU think Five should do with Michele. Love you guys, thanks for the support, and...world peace and country grapes! :D


	7. Remembering what's Lost

The Hunt of Five 7

_**Author Note: **_You guys are impossibly amazing. This story (now) has only seven chapters, and you guys have greeted with me with such love and such encouragement…it makes me so much more confident as a young writer Thank you to each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart…the support means the world to me! :D Oh, and thank you for the feedback with what Five should do with Michele, and I hope you aren't too disappointed with the results and the final decision ;)

P.S. Please, if you don't mind, be sure to check out any of my other stories…the support of them what be totally epic, and you will get a virtual cookie…*Tempting face* :P Anyway, if you don't know any of the others fandoms I write for, I am always open for requests, and my other two Lorien Legacies stories are:

**Papa**- Ella-centric, and her view for Crayton and all that has happened to her

**The Most Important Thing**- Nine centric, and Nine/Ella if you tilt your head and squint. It's a Christmas story, but I've been told it's cute and fluffy, so…:P ;)

Now that I have shamelessly self-advertised and talked a lot in this author note, enjoy this next update to the best of your ability! :D

* * *

_**Five **_

The brown-haired servant boy about scares me out of my skin when I finally open my eyes again.

"Oh!" he jumps back from me instantly, his pale cheeks flushing pink instantly as I slowly prop myself up on my hands, "sorry, I didn't know when you were going to wake up."

"What were you doing?" I ask cautiously, looking him up and down with a conclusion he doesn't _seem _to be that harmful: Lanky shoulders, tousled dark hair full of cowlicks, light ice-blue eyes, pale skin, and is more than anything skin and bones.

"I was just making sure you didn't have frostbite…" his cheeks were gradually growing darker in color, "or…or anything like that."

"Hmm…" I reply slowly, blinking against the sudden light and wiping my matted-up eyelashes from having my eyes closed so long, "where is she?"

He bit his lower lip, "She's doing a little better, but not much. She seemed to have been more affected by the cold than you did…I'm sorry."

By the look on his face, he truly does have sympathy for my cause and 'little sister', which I don't really mind but don't completely accept. Humans' pity means nothing when it comes to the ruthless nature of the Mogodorians or what I'm up against with the other Loric children, or at least it hasn't been or use until now. In all honesty, Jemstone, Summer, and I had as minimal contact with them as we possibly could. Summer and I were both were homeschooled a little by Jemstone, but we all knew we were in constant danger, and Jem's unmasked fear/worry didn't really help our own terror.

She also didn't tell me much of anything, which means I'm still pretty much in the dark as of right now.

"Miss?" the boy's voice brings me back to reality instantly, making me blink as I return from my daze, "are you…are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I shake my head dismissively, "where am I, anyway?"

"The hospital inside our little hotel/resort," he replied, sounding flustered, "you know, there aren't a little of people around here, but it's still nice to have something just in case."

"It's freezing here," I point out, pretty bluntly, "it's almost inhabitable."

"Well, yeah…I kind of noticed," he winces a bit, as if my mentioning of it brings back unpleasant memories, "we don't have a lot of connection with the outside world, but-"

"Who is 'we'?" I cut him off abruptly.

Looking even more flustered, he fumbles out, "Just my grandfather, my brothers, and my mother. We moved out here with my grandfather after Dad died."

"Well…I see," even though I can't put myself in his shoes totally, I _do _know firsthand that changing suddenly is hard at first, "when can I get out of here?"

Now his blushing face is alarmed, "What? Leave? You're in no shape, you just woke up….and your sister…"

Sighing, I switch my gaze to my lap. As much as it pains me, there is no other safer choice than to leave Michele here or with some other tourists. She's an orphan and I'm dangerous to be around, especially with my enemies- I'm not going to let her almost die again, or if worse ever came to worse, her die in front of me. It's going to be hard, yes, but it's going to be better this way. I just wish I could explain to her how it would be better in the long-run.

"I've got to go," I reply to the boy firmly, "what is your name?"

"Um…Brandon…" he speaks hesitantly, "and you…?"

"Emily," I shrug, getting to my feet shakily and batting off his outreached hands to try steadying me, "Brandon, I need you to listen to me very closely. I have got to get out of here, and if I don't, both my sister and I will be killed. I need your family to look after her."

Now's he's definitely confused, but there's something else behind his eyes- accusation, "Why?"

"None of your business," I reply with a little groan, losing what little patience I have for a lot of questions, "but…I need you to take care of her."

"If I am, I need to know why," he insists as I slip on my small blue jean jacket, and I sigh and head for the door, once again batting away his hands.

"Just do it?" my tone is begging and almost helpless, and his face softens instantly- I had a feeling he was a tender heart.

"I'll try…" he swallowed nervously, and I gently clasp his shoulder for a moment.

"Thank you," I whisper almost hoarsely before slipping into the dimly lit carpeted hallway, slipping away the second a shadow falls near me, melting into the wall.

Yes, I did just say I melted into the wall. It was my first power I got when I was about twelve, which allows me to pass in and out of objects easily. Honestly, it's pretty cool, but when I about fell _inside _a tree randomly, it scared the pee of me- literally.

Moving as I can now, I find a window in the bedroom I passed in. It's dusty and covered in spider webs, but using my power- or, as Jem mentioned once it was called, my Legacy- I pass through all the boxes blocking me from said window and emerge outside into the bitter cold. In my weakened state, the cold instantly starts wearing me down, but I know that if I can just make it to the airport, I'll be in the clear.

Research is going to have to be postponed; my laptop was in the igloo where that Mogodorian scout tried to kill Michele and I, and even if they don't seem to like the cold, the Mogs won't be happy I downed them another warrior-scout thing.

The simple fact is that I have to get out of here, and as fast as I can.

* * *

_**Eight**_

When I switch my gaze from the tall fields of grass for a moment, I notice that my knuckles are white from griping the wheel so hard for so long.

It's unnerving to lose Nine and Ella, even if Nine can be an ass and Ella almost died not too long ago- actually, _especially _because she almost died not too long ago. We're all piled in the car, muscles going numb from the hours of frantically searching for somewhere we don't even know where we're going. I've been trying to keep us on the back roads so I can drive slower while straining my eyes to watch both the road and for any sign of them, but thus far that has been a lost effort. It's unlikely, honestly, that we'll be able to find them so easy, but it's certainly better than waiting around and not struggling to find them- I'm not looking forward to their scars burned into my leg anytime soon.

John has been staring out of the window the entire time, his eyes almost pleading as he silently seems to will them to be able to find us or let us find them. I've got little doubt that both he and Six have been trying to communicate with Ella through their thoughts, but she apparently hasn't answered yet or doesn't plan too. Sarah is anxious in the backseat, seeming especially on edge since that battle in Virginia- I can't blame her on that one, either- and Marina has seemed more distant lately, like she's haunted by something. I don't bother to question in for now, but I'm pretty concerned for her- she's shy and thoughtful, which are both characteristics I don't exactly frown on.

"John," Six suddenly speaks up from the backseat, the still silence being broken suddenly and making myself tense on instinct, "what are we going to do about Sam?"

I never knew this guy, but I know he was another human that had significance in John's life in Paradise, Ohio. This Sam person was apparently his best friend, and he was still under the government or Mogs somewhere. It was pretty natural for him to be worried, but for Six of all people to bring it up so suddenly was almost random.

"I don't know," John replies for the passenger seat beside me, his gaze never breaking from the window.

The silence refills the space almost instantly, and I groan silently to myself. The tension is slowly becoming awkward, and the sooner we find either Nine, Ella, Sam, or Five, the better.

At this point, it'd be a miracle if we got all four back before it's too late.

* * *

_**Ella **_

_Ella, are you okay? If you can hear me, answer me Ella. _

Six's voice is echoing constantly in my head, and John's occasionally breaks through as well, which is starting to bother me. If they are worried, the others must be too- especially Marina. I'm starting to feel bad about just leaving off with Nine at the cold reminder, which apparently he notices, much to my embarrassment and surprise.

"What's your sitch, kid?" he asks casually from the driver's seat, like we're talking about the weather on a normal day; it continues to amaze me how collected he is under all of the circumstances.

He's even more laid back and sure of himself than Papa ever was.

"Sitch?" my voice sounds small, timid, and weak, making me instantly scold myself inwardly.

"Yeah, what's yours?" a small smirk plays on his lips as his eyes glance over at me, "you've got something bothering you."

"How do you know?" gosh, I hope he can't read minds too.

"It's all on your face, pipsqueak. I can read you like a book," this makes me blush a little, but I know he's right; how I feel usually shows up pretty fast on my face or in my body language/tone.

"It's nothing…" I try to assure him, like I'd seen Six do when either John or Sarah asks if she's feeling okay when she's really not in the best shape.

"Right," he rolls his eyes, his tone plainly sarcastic and signaling he doesn't believe me, "well, when you decide it's something, let me know."

The car ride becomes silent, which sets me more at unease. Even Six and John have stopped trying to talk to me in my thoughts now, like something just happened with them, too; I'm really getting worried about them. Slowly, I ease back a little in my seat, turning my face away from Nine and closing my eyes slowly.

* * *

_I dream of Papa. _

_We're in a small town somewhere in Australia, and we're trying to get settled in. There are flies everywhere and the heat is heavy; both of us are already exhausted as it is. As soon as I set down my backpack, my legs give out from underneath me, taking me with them. Papa catches me just before I hit the dirt floor, scooping me up gently and setting me on the single bed. _

"_Rest," he tells me gently, and I look at him with my signature sad brown eyes. _

"_I'm sorry…" I whisper out hoarsely, "if you need any help, I-"_

"_Ella, just get some rest," he says a little more firmly before brushing my hair out of my eyes and kissing my forehead gently, "you need it." _

"_But don't you need help unpacking and planning?" my tone is begging for me to be of some use. _

"_That's what I'm here for, kiddo," he replies, draping the thin blanket over me, "I'm going to take of you." _

"_Forever?" _

"_Forever." _

_Smiling weakly, I manage, "I love you, Papa." _

"_I love you too, Ella .I really do."_

* * *

"Kid," a familiar voice echoes in my head, "kid, wake up."

Slowly, I open my eyes and squint in the setting sun's sunlight. Nine is leaned over me, which makes me blush a little instantly, and that was before I realized I was sweating on my face. Blushing harder, I reach up and discover the sweat was actually tears rolling down my face.

"What're you crying about?" he asks, reaching behind me and lifted my seat up all the way.

"I..." There is no point in denying it, but what can I say so I don't look like a baby?

He continues to lean over me, eyebrow raised. As I fidget, I note the car has stopped and we seem to be in the middle of nowhere. Squeezing my eyes shut once again, I pretend to doze off again, which only inspires him to poke me kind of hard in the stomach. Biting the inside of my lower lip, I try to get to my side and curtain my face with my hair, but he just pokes my side, making me stiffle a giggle.

"C' mon," he encourages in a voice that's surprisingly gentle and coaxing, "spill it. Bad dream?"

"Sorta..." I instantly move my gaze from his, but he takes my chin firmly and pulls my face closer to his own: his breathe is hot and slow.

"Don't make me kick you out," he warms, making my body go rigid. Would he really dump me, just because I didn't want to talk?

"Y-yeah," I fumble out, "bad dream."

"Bad memory?" His guess is surprisingly accurate.

"In the form of a dream," is my reply as I drop my gaze again, half aware of his smirk as he pokes my side again.

"Stop looking away," his tone is almost teasing, which surprises me enough to remeet his gaze, "thank you."

Before I can shy away again, he is sitting me up straight and keeping my chin in a strong grasp of two fingers. Nervously, I look into his eyes and sniff a little from my previous tears, and he sighs a bit.

"Your Cepan?" He guesses and is, once again, correct.

"Yes..." I admit meekly, feeling my eyes sting, "I just miss him."

Slowly, he lets go of my chin and does something surprising- he hugs me tightly against his rock-solid chest. He's warm and somehow comforting, but this hug is sudden and I don't know if I can hug back. For a minute, we just stay like that in silence, my face pressed in his shirt; he smells like aftershave and sweat.

"Yeah, I know how you feel, kid," he finally mumbles into the top of my head, letting go almost too soon for me.

"Um...thank you," once again I'm blushing, and he just ruffles my hair a little as he restarts the car.

"No problem," he replies as he pulls off the side of the road.

It both amazes and flusters me that he'd stop to check on me, and even more comfort me. Silently, I touch his shoulder and wait for a reaction that doesn't come, making me look away. I'm still not sure what to think of him, but maybe I don't have to be afraid after all.

* * *

_**Five**_

The next flight isn't until the morning, but at least I made it this far.

Slowly, I try easing myself into one of the plastic chairs of the airport, shivering against the intense heat. Brandon was right; nobody wants to live here, especially when it's near impossible. The natural beauty is enchanting, sure, but the environment is relentless. The second I get lowered my eyes close, bringing me into the internal warmth of a memory.

* * *

_"Jem..." I found myself pouting, "why do I gotta have two braids?" _

_"It makes you look adorable," she replied, squeezing my shoulders gently, "like a little angel...like a normal ten year old."_

_"Yeah right," I scoffed, sulking to myself and being envious of Summer's new bangs. _

_I didn't even want to go to public school; it was too risky in my opinion for Summer. And with braids, I knew I'd be known as a softie while Summer got popular, which I hated. Even when I was that young, though, I knew Jem had to be off to want us going off like that alone; she was a worrier and uptight. _

_"We need to get going," she said, straightening out my white blouse and gray skirt before ushering me quickly to the backseat._

_I'd pouted/scowled at both of them on the trip to this school. At the time, Jem had always been fussing at me or demeaning me while Summer usually did as she pleased or wanted. It frustrated me to no end, so when we pulled into a parking space, I didn't move to get out._

_"Lilly, you'll be late," Jem urged sharply, using my new alias. _

_"So what?" I'd responded, folding my arms over my chest, "I'm not going." _

_"Lillian, get your butt out of the car this instant!" My Cepan was easily flustered, but I stood my ground. _

_"No."_

_Needless to say, the car ride back home was very quiet and intense. When we'd arrived back to the downstairs apartment, Jem grabbed my arm and pulled me into my room. I'd stared at her for a long time, rage and betrayment clear on both of our faces. _

_"I don't like these braids," I told her cooly, but my eyes stung at her careworn hurt eyes._

_Slowly, she released my hair from its binds, letting it fall free in curly waves. I'd wrapped my arms around her neck and cried with her, and that was one of the last times I ever tried to defy her...for better or for worse. _

* * *

__The feeling of someone watching wakes me up.


	8. Trust me

The Hunt of Five 8

_**John **_

There is something other than the obvious that's wrong; I can feel it in my gut.

When I blink, I realize I've been absently staring out of the window the entire time mutely. Blinking again to clear my head, I take my hands from the front of my hoodie's pocket and reach down, pulling my Chest in my lap and pulling out the Chest tracker. Much to my dismay, the green light is absence, and unease sets down in the base of my stomach. There's no telling where she/he is right now, and without their Chest open, it's impossible to track her.

A part of me wonders if they did that on purpose, or if something happened.

"John," Six's voice from the back makes me jump slightly, since thus far it's been incredibly quiet, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I shake my head dismissively, "just wondering if we had any more leads on Number Five."

She pauses and leans forward; her hair smells like Dove, "John…look."

Following her finger, I notice a glowing green dot in the next state over. There's no way that Five would've been able to travel that fast within a couple of days, at least being so close to the state we're in now; it must be Nine.

_Nine. _

"Eight," I say quickly, pointing to the dot for him to see, "do you think you can get us in that direction fast?"

He grips the wheel suddenly, swerving the truck sharply to the right and heading in the opposite way, "Got it."

_**Nine **_

"Nine…" Ella's voice is, once again, hesitant and ridiculously soft, "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why wouldn't it be?" I ask with a shrug, snapping shut the lid again and tossing it back in the back of the car, "it's fine."

"But what if the others…?" she trails off, and I raise an eyebrow.

"What if the others what?"

"What if they saw the little light on that tracker?" she finally manages out, "what if they know where we are now?"

"Well, we won't be here long," shrugging again, I squint against the sunlight and set my gaze on the gas station in front of us, "I'm going to fill up. You go grab something for us to eat from inside."

"O-okay," she fumbles, barely catching the wallet I toss to her.

Rolling my eyes when she turns away to do as I asked, I begin filling up the car. It's definitely an awesome ride, and the best part about it is that it blends right it to the other cars; hiding in plain sight. The surface gleams red as I run the edge of my shirt over it, making me smile a little bit. I almost feel proud of this Mustang, and it seriously sucks that I'm going to end having to ditch it at some point.

The meter click just as Ella's coming back, looking nervous as she clutches my change in one hand and two snack cakes in the other. Seriously, it's like she's afraid of me or something; I don't get her. Then again, she's been hanging out with Seven for the past few months, and goodness knows that _she's _quiet and too serious for her own good, so I guess it makes since. On the other hand, though, if this kid's always like this, she's got to get some backbone or at least stop being so easily intimated.

Besides, I'm not scary unless my senses shut down when I'm fighting; I don't get what's got her so paranoid.

Sliding back into the driver's seat, I take a cake from her hand and toss it in the air, casually catching it while reviving the engine back up. People's head naturally snap around to see what I'm up to, but I've already screeched out of the station and taken off down the highway before they can all fully process what just happened. Once again, the kid's gripping her armrests like their her lifeline, which makes me roll my eyes before reaching over and starting to pry them free, the cake now resting on my thigh. The second I touch her, she flinches a bit and blushes bright red; what's her deal?!

"Kid," my tone darker than originally intended, but it's too late now, I guess, "seriously. What's your sitch?"

"N-nothing," she lies lamely, and the frustration from not knowing finally boils over.

Swerving sharply to the side, ignoring the blaring horns from other cars, I slam on the brake, screeching us to a sharp and sudden stop. Her blushing face has drained of color- she's as white as sheet of paper- while her fingers have seemed to relatch themselves back to the armrests. Glaring now, I grab the front of her shirt and yank her closer, making her eyes meet mine.

"Don't lie to me," I almost growl out, and she shrinks away against my grip, "tell me."

"I-I…" she stutters, and I yank her even closer, my fist clutching the front of her shirt and my face against hers.

"TELL ME!" now I'm yelling, but I really don't care at this point. She was v_ery _lucky for me to let her even come in the first; it's a wonder my temper has help up this long.

Suddenly, she shrinks in size- _completely _in form and age- to look like a four-year-old. Since I wasn't expecting it, my grip loosens on the shirt for a moment, which was just the opening she needed; she grabs it free and yanks back over her head, swinging open the door. Half-snarling in my throat as I yank open my own door, I move to grab her shoulder, but she just stumbles away, growing back in her regular eleven-year-old form with tears streaming down her face.

Somehow, her crying brings back all my senses, including my common sense, "Kid…."

"I'm sorry," she's pretty much sobbing now, and a pang of guilt stabs through my chest, "I'm really sorry, Nine!"

Whirling around her heel, she takes off into the woods cut off from the rest of the road. My feet seem molded to the ground as she disappears among the brush; I'm a damn idiot. Before I can head after her, though, I notice out of the corner of my eye flashing red-blue lights are gradually growing closer in my direction, making me curse myself again; I've got other problems to deal with right now.

_Great. Just perfect. _

_**Five **_

When I open my eyes and look around, the only other person around other than the secretary lady, (who is asleep,) is a boy with long black hair with his dark eyes set on me.

Recoiling a little instantly, I boost myself up in the chair with my elbows and meet his gaze, half hoping he'd just look away. Instead, he starts coming closer, which makes my hands clench instantly into fists on instinct. Something about the way he studies me, like he's evaluating me before some kind of kinky exam, sharpens my senses and makes me ready for a brutal fight. Considering my situation, there's about a fifty-fifty change he's just some human who finds me attractive or something.

I kind of blindly hope that's who he is, but it's still pretty unlikely.

"Hi," his voice, at least, is hesitant, "is this seat taken?" He motions to the vacant chair beside me, and I bit my lower lip.

"No," I finally decide, shrugging once and tensing when he decides to fill the empty spot, "um…"

"Sorry, am I bothering you?" he flinches, but his eyes go to the side, as if he's listening to some other voice; I question whether or not this guy is actually sane or not.

"Everything alright?" I inquire casually, leaning in the opposite direction subtly as his intense gaze switches back to my own.

"Yeah," he replies shortly, "don't worry about me. I need you to listen to me very carefully: We've got to get out of here as soon as possible."

_We?! _

"Why?" I hold the first question on the tip of my tongue.

"They're after you," he says briskly, his voice so tight and nervous it's hard not to believe him, "you skilled one of their scouts, but he had a tracker. They know you're here, and there are more coming to capture you."

"How do you know?" I demand in response, moving a little further from him on instinct as my fists tighten more.

"I used to be one of them."

_Yep, he's definitely crazy. _

_**Six **_

We no longer have any leads on Number Five, but at least we might be able to find Nine and Ella. It was reckless and irrational to take off like that in the middle of the night, not to mention irresponsible. I'm definitely going to end up reprimanding them about that when we find them, especially Nine.

_If we find them, _the small voice of practicality chimes in the back of my mind.

_No. __When __we find them; we __**will **__find them, _I argue mentally with it.

I'm talking to myself; I question my sanity briefly. Something buzzes in my pocket, and I almost drop the phone in surprise at the familiar number lighting up the screen. With my hand trembling slightly, I press the green button and hold it to the side of my face.

"Nine," I speak breathlessly, and everyone else's heads snap around to look at me, "where are you?"

"The police station," he grumbles, and my eyes widen in surprise.

"What did you do?" I demand; I can just imagine him rolling his eyes at my worry/half-order.

"Long story?" he offers, then sighs, "look, I'm in Georgia, but I guess you knew that already."

I'll admit, he's pretty good, "Yeah. Just give me the address and we'll come bail you out."

"Let me guess," now I imagine him smirking in that smart-aleck way of his, "I've got a lot of explaining to do."

"Tons," I reply, rolling my own eyes and grabbing a pen from the floorboard, half-scrawling out the police station address he gives me, "we'll be there tomorrow morning. Don't go anywhere."

"No promises."

_**Ella **_

I've ruined everything.

Quietly, I cry into my hands as I perch in one of the tallest trees I could find. Nine must hate now, and now I've got no idea where I am or what I can do now. I don't have a Chest, so I can't track anyone, I've got no weapons, and I'm not even sure what stare I'm in. Sniffling, I lay on one side and curl into a tight little ball, feeling absolutely horrible about what I did to Nine. I'd just gotten so scared and shy…

"Yo, pipsqueak."

_That's cruel, _I think, closing my eyes as more tears slip down his face, _it's like I hear him right now._

"I know you're not asleep."

_Wait a second…. _

"Nine!" I yelp in alarm, almost falling off the branch until he grabs my arm, steadying me with a surprisingly gentle grip.

"That's my name; don't wear it out," I can make his smirk through the darkness as he sits on the limb beside me, pulling me into his lap, which makes my cheeks all but catch on fire.

"W-what are yo-you doing?" my voice unfortunately shakes once again while he brushes my wet hair out of my equally wet eyes, steadying my balance on top of his thighs.

"Apologizing," his reply is so calm and steady, I have to widen my eyes a little, "look, kid-Ella- I didn't mean to snap like that."

"It's fine. It wasn't your fault, I-"

"No," he cuts me off sharply before re-softening his tone, "no, it wasn't your fault. I've got no excuse, and I am very sorry. That was uncalled for."

"But Nine…" I begin with a small tremble, but he holds me tightly against his chest, just like he did after my bad memory.

"No 'buts'."

After that, he just holds me slightly awkwardly, like he doesn't really know what he's doing. Sniffing, I wrap my own arms around his neck, burying my face into the space between his jawline and shoulder, along his neck. He's pretty much as solid as a rock and feels strong as steel, but there's also a certain warmth to it that gives me security, like I'm protected and cared about.

"I love you…" I suddenly mumble, but before I can fully become embarrassed I feel him smile- actually _smile_- into my own shoulder.

"Well," he speaks suddenly, letting me go and rubbing my shoulder firmly, "I'm technically supposed to be in the police station right now. The others are going to bail us out tomorrow morning, but I need you to be our distraction. Do you think you can handle that?"

Smiling a bit myself now, I reply with more confidence than I've ever spoken with to him, "Of course."

_**Five **_

"What are you talking about?" I glare at him; he doesn't look like any Mogodorian I've ever seen.

"Look…" his face has turned pink, "my name is Adam. I betrayed them, and I know you probably don't trust me….but it's important you do right now. I'll explain on the plane, okay?"

"What?!" I demand a little more loudly than intended, and he flinches, covering my mouth with his hand quickly.

"Please," his eyes are pleading, but there's no way I could ever trust a Mogodorian, "please, you have to believe me."

Suddenly, something catches in the corner of my eye- a chest beside a black duffel bag that must belong to him. Loric symbols are carved into the wood, which can only mean one thing.

"Sorry," I snap in response, marching over to my Chest and pulling out my dagger, the green energy glowing the second I grip it in one fist, "but trust is overrated."


	9. Plans set into Action

The Hunt of Five 9

**_Five_**

The Adam dude stares at me, his face a mixture of confusion, fear, and slight desperation. Ignoring the whiteness of his face skin and light blush making it's way to his ears, I approach slowly, my muscles rigid in preparation for an intense battle. My instincts are all I listen to at this point, simply a drawn out moment of thought means the difference between life and death.

"Please..." He basically whispers, his own body rigid. Judging by the clench in his fists and tight set to his jaw, he knows how to fight.

By the looks of it, though, he doesn't know how to win one.

Instead of using my words, I use my actions to respond. With a quick flick of my wrist, I've landed the dagger right above his shoulder, making him yelp and try to roll away. Instead of succeeding, though, he only finds himself to be constrained to thin back cushioning the hard, cold airport seats offer. His eyes widen as he begins jerking his shoulder forward, going into an instant mild panic that lays out many openings for me to deliver killing strikes into. Calmly, I walk closer, striking him sharply in the stomach with my foot before pulling my dagger free, just as he's doubled forward a bit in pain. As he starts to sit back up, I slash him across the side of neck, cutting at least vessel and letting the blade whip out an inch from under his ear.

As expected, he yelps as his hand goes to his new wound while de ducks again, managing to barely miss another jab, aimed at his chest. While I'm whirling back to face him, he ducks between my legs and shoulders me hard in the side of the face. Unfortunately for both of us, his balance was off, which meant we ended up crashing onto the cold, hard tile, him thudding on top of me heavily.

"Son of a-" I curse, landing a sold punch into his hip and feeling a crunch, which is satisfying until my knuckles scream out.

Before I can try for another punch in a more sensitive area, like the stomach or face, he snatches my injured hand, yanking me sharply forward. My forehead smacks against the metal end of a chair armrest, making me grunt and something wet burst from the injured skin. Despite that, I recover fast enough to snag his chin with my free hand and yank forward, the reward being a loud pop and for his neck to collide with the sharp edge of the same armrest.

He hits the ground, knees first, giving me time to stumble to my own feet. The blood drips down from the new small cut on my forehead and my knuckles are burning, but I've managed to get a grip on my dagger again with my left hand. Switching it around a bit in my grasp, I do an undercut, aiming for his stomach and managing to catch the underside of his chin as jerks backwards to dodge, crashing flat on his back with a smack of his head against the tile.

There's a spark of anger in his eyes, but just as he's struggling to rise again, he hesitates. His head tilts ever so slightly to the side, as if he's listening to some other non-existent voice, which makes me briefly whether or not this guy is just some crazy human with a big ego. Inwardly, I scold myself as I realize he's gotten back up when I wasn't paying attention, my grip tightening on dagger.

One more slash is all he'll be able to take; he's injured and bleeding pretty bad.

"Number Five..." He says, one hand cradling his obviously cracked jaw, "if you can't trust him, trust me."

_Okay, what?_

"I'm Number One."

* * *

_**Nine**_

"You know," I comment casually to the police officer who's supposed to be keeping contained, "you guys obviously aren't broke. How about ordering a more comfortable set of chairs?"

"Shut up," he replies harshly, making me smirk wider and lean back, flexing my wrist testingly against the cuff that has me partially attached to a chair.

Casually and smartly, I comment, "Touche, touche..."

* * *

**_*Next day*_ **

* * *

_**Five **_

I must have passed out or something, because I wake up on what appears to be a makeshift bed. The underneath of whatever I've been laying on is comfortably firm, and my head is nestled in a pile of cloth. Blinking a couple of times to attempt clearing my groggy-set head, I sit up and start surveying my surroundings, even though most of what's in it is hidden in the ink of midnight.

"Where am I?" I can sense another life form in the room with me.

"Let me check..." the Adam dude's voice replies, then I hear a grunt, followed by a female voice that somehow is familiar to me.

"In our hotel room. We got off the plane not too long ago," she says, and my eyes widen in shock, fear, and anger.

_When were we in the plane?! _

"Where are we?" I demand again, more sharply as I stumble to my feet and almost fall to my knees the second I stand upright, as I've been asleep for way to long and all of my muscles are painfully asleep, "why am I here? What do you want for me? _Who are you?"_

"So many questions..." the female's voice muses and anger bubbles high in my chest and stomach, muscles contracting back into the fighting stance as I glare daggers in her direction.

"Don't screw with me," I warn, and I see the figure that must belong to her shrug before she steps out into the dim light coming from the curtain-covered window.

Wait...no, _he _steps out.

"What the...?" I'm at complete and total loss for words as the Adam guy stands in front of me, arms folded over his chest cooly and a playing smirk on his face. This is somehow not the same Adam I fought with in the airport however long ago; this one is more confident, independant, and cool-looking.

What really throws me for a loop, though, is when he talks in a female voice that's both low but bold, "I told you, Five. I'm Number One."

"Number One was a girl..." I squint, trying to detirmine whether or not I'm halluicanting or just having a really screwed up dream.

"Yeah, yeah," she/he/whatever the crap this guy is replies, rolling his/her dark eyes and sitting on the edge of the makeshift bed I'd apparently been sleeping on for a while, "look. I'm technically dead, but this Adam guy is a Mogodorian idiot who got hooked up to one of their machines to access all off my memories. But I came back instead and have become...well, friends with him. We share the same mind. He betrayed them, and now he's on our side. Got all that?"

"And how do I believe you?" I say lowly, body still tense for fighting.

With a sigh, she pulls up the sleeve on his/her leg. It is only to my shock and surprise to see three Loric symbols burned deep into his skin; they are exactly like mine.

"...Okay. I believe you."

* * *

**_Sarah _**

Just walking into the police station immediatley sets me further on the edge than I already was.

"About time you guys showed up," Nine smirks widely at the sight of us, sitting up from where he was slouching, "it's almost time for Happy Hour at Sonic."

"Shut up," Six simply glares at him as Eight heads up to the counter in order to pay the bail with some money we'd ended up having to trade a precious, beautiful jewel from Lorien for.

I can't say I'm exactly pleased to see him right now myself; we've all been worried sick about him, and he is acting like this is an everyday unconvience, like forgetting something for school at your house. Just as Eight's about to start dealing out the money to the police officers behind the counter, a little girl rushes into the station, a female cop hot on her heels, looking flushed as a couple of male cops tail her. The girl has big brown and beautiful auburn hair, and looks like she's about four or five; it has to be Ella. Tears are rolling down her face as she looks around desperatley, looking frantic and panicky, until her eyes fall on Nine and she emits a sound that is both a squeal and a cry.

"Bubba!" she sputters, rushing and clinging to his shirt tightly, hiding her face in his shirt and crying harder, "bubba, they hurted me!"

He raises his eyebrows, like he both surprised and angry; they must have some kind of plan going on right now, "They did what?!"

When she lifts her red, tear-soaked face, I realize the small bruise forming right under her eye. Biting my lower lip as John and Eight both look just as surprised as I feel, I question whether or not that was planned or if these police officers legiatmently hurt her. A small flame of anger begins burning deep within my gut, just like what happened when they were all battling the Mogodorian leader. It was this same flame that inspired me to try and rush in and help with Ella not too long, and the same flame that nearly got both of us killed.

John saved our lives that night.

Nine looks up with a deep scowl at them all, looking like he's about to rip some people's heads off. Knowing Nine, he probably would if given the chance.

"You hurt my little sister," he snarls lowly, the tone of his voice indicating just as clearly as his face that's angry and that _somebody _is about to pay, "which one of them did this to you?"

She points tearfully to the largest of all the six police officers in room with us, who's large with a couple of fat rolls and has large, built, muscular shoulders. He definatley is one of those officers who likes to eat donuts, but at the same time, he looks like he's capable of putting up a pretty good physical fight, as long it doesn't include running. If I've learned one thing in the time I've known all of them, though, it's that Nine is definatley the most powerful, and it will take a _lot _to take him down.

Besides, he has super speed.

He glares at all of us with beady dark blue eyes, like he can't believe anybody would dare to challenge him. By the looks of it, he's got an ego on him and doesn't like us youth...at all. Naturally, I cower back a little, but the others look strong, unbreakable. Six, John, and Nine look borderline challenging, and I notice out of the corner of my eye Eight pulling something out of his back pocket.

_He carries a dagger like that all the time?_

"I-I'm sc-scared," Ella whimpers, clinging to her 'brother's' chest for all her worth, "make bad men go bye bye!"

"I will," he assures her, easily snapping whatever bond the handcuffs presented him and putting the much younger Ella in my arms suddenly, "get out of here."

I'm too intimadated to object; I hold Ella tightly to my chest and scurry outside.

* * *

_**Author Note:** _Cliffies! :3

So, now I have a question for all you lovilies: If I continue this little series of my own, (kind of,) and bleed it into two more stories after this one would you read it?

And now I've got another question: Do you guys think I should write more Nine/Ella fluff, or any kind of fluff? Would you like to see more one-shots from me? Because honestly, this fandom is my obsession, and I do believe I will be feeding in more stories to the archive :D

Now that you have surrvived the author note, (I preasumme and hope,)...R and R? ;) :)


	10. Planned Truth

The Hunt of Five 10

_**Five **_

"So, now that we've gotten all of _your_ questions out of the way..." One says, sitting down and leaning back casually, propping her feet up on the small table in the room, parrel to the bed and on the wall beside the door, "how about I ask you a few myself?"

"Me?" I raise an eyebrow, bowing my head instinctively from instant withdrawal, "what's it to you?"

"You're part of the Garde, dumbass," she replies, rolling her eyes and folding her hands behind her- or his- head casually, "just like I was. I think I've got some kind of rights entitled."

"Maybe," I just shrug, averting my gaze, "what do you want to know?"

"...Ever got laid?"

"Excuse me?!" even if I _am_ a virgin, my cheeks catch a bright red color and heat up tremendously.

"You heard me," she replies steadily, like it's as casual of a question as talking about the weather or something, "or are you deaf?"

"Shut up," I mumble, resting my elbows on my knees to support my upper body weight while keeping my gaze on the ground, "to answer your question, no."

"Oh..." she draws out the word, her smirk widening against the darkness of falling darkness that casts shadows in the room, as if she just figured everything out about me in an instant, "I get it."

"You get what?"

"You're innocent, aren't you?" she muses the question, "not quite introduced to all of the world's tricks and dirtiness..."

"What did you just call me?" I demand, getting to my feet on an instant.

Not being an innocent isn't the most wonderful thing in the world to live up to, but it is the truth. On average, I'm pretty level headed, but when it comes to underestimation, I've got minimal tolerance for it. Even if I always have had to hide myself from the humans and develop powers/Legacies alone, being taken for less than I really am is definitely one way to make me blow. Especially when it's coming from Number One, who is apparently _dead _and holding herself up in a Mogodorian traitor's body.

Even if I _was _innocent, she has no room to talk.

"Innocent," she replies easily, as if my rising frustrations have no effect on her, "you don't know how ruthless humans can be, do you?"

"Well, I've got my ideas," my tone has dropped to something close to a snarl, but not quite like that of a wild animal who is ready for attack, "judging on how I grew up with them, I _do know_."

She pauses, as if contemplating my words, "...Nah."

_**Ella **_

When Sarah has ducked us behind the building, I instantly squirm free of her grasp. After a quick scan of our surroundings to make sure no curious eyes were trying to catch a glimpse of what we were doing, I easily shape shift back into my original eleven-year-old form and look up to Sarah, suddenly feeling like I'm small all over again.

"Do you think they can handle all of those police officers?" even as I ask it, I already know the answer.

"Of course," she nods confidently, but there's even doubt/hesitance in her beautiful, wide blue eyes, "I mean….we all know they're capable of _so _much more than they seem on the outside sometimes."

"Good point, but I still want to help."

My place right now, though, is to stay out here and protect Sarah from any dangers that may arise. Even if these humans a_re _just police officers, it would be very easy for one of them to call for backup while the others were preoccupied, which would mean we'd have to get as far away as possible as _fast _as possible. Six would probably turn John and Marina invisible, then Eight could probably transport Nine and himself away. Knowing them, we'd be out of state before dawn broke across the horizon.

_Focus, Ella, _I scold myself inwardly, just like Papa would have done if my mind wandered too much, _you have to think about right now. Worry about later when it gets here. _

He always stressed that it was very important to plan for the future, but to be able to live in the present at all times. It was so true that, if you got distracted for one second, you could be killed instantly with no clue of what would have happened. Sadly enough, that's exactly how he went; he acted on impulse, and now he's gone.

_Gone. _

The word doesn't sit right with me as I move in front of Sarah protectively. She's got guts and I like her, but her being a human makes her both vulnerable and a target. Just like the rest of us, she is being hunted both by the Mogs and the government; she is definitely one of us at this point for more reasons than John loving her.

Flashing blue and red lights dance in the distance as sirens begin to wail, making me tense and Sarah become pale. Turning halfway in her direction, I ask quickly, "Sarah, how good of an actress are you?"

_**Marina **_

Nine, naturally, heads for the biggest police officer with rolls of fat and a fierce expression on his face that almost challenged us from the start.

Six and John start for the two behind the desk, probably because they've both got a gun in each hand and starting to fire rapidly. As the bullets speed toward them, John starts stopping as many as he can with his telekensis, leaving Six to deliver a roundhouse kick to the first one's stomach. Both of them grunt as they hit the ground because of her tackle, obscuring my vision beyond the counter while John launches for the second.

Before I can turn fully, someone's arm folds around my neck with a jerk, yanking me off my feet and pinned me halfway to their torso. Grunting, I twist the best I can without breaking my neck, even though popping of my neck muscles brings searing pain I try to disregard as I struggle to concentrate. The person constraining me is the other female guard that came from outside, but I've barely got time to determine that before the force of her constraint on my airway causes my eyes to water and airway to shut off. Grunting in my throat as best I can in this position, my fingers fly wildly to grab her shoulders or arms and instead having them clasp at her hair. I'm not as strong, (or trained,) as the others, but with a heave, I manage to flip her over my shoulder halfway, which ends with me on my knees and her head smashing into the ground.

As I scramble to my feet, I feel a tremendous wave of guilt wash over me. This women is just a human who does what she's paid and trained to do, not a bloodthirsty Mog who wants nothing more than to eliminate my entire race. Sighing at her struggling-to-rise-again form once, I whirl around as the other smaller officer from outside lunges to tackle me and only meeting air. Before I have a chance to try for an attack in his direction, Eight has suddenly teleported beside him, surprising both of us and giving him time to deliver a forceful punch in the face, knocking out the officer instantly.

"You okay?" he asks, voice tinged with worry as he reaches to grab my arm while steadying me.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I nod, half in a daze of what we'd just done, "let's help the others…"

"Well, I think they've got it covered…" he shrugs a bit, looking to Six, who just rose from behind the counter as is offering her hand to someone- probably John, considering the police officers are definitely down by now.

In the meantime, Nine is still fighting with the fat guy- or, by the looks of it, toying with him. Each time the officer tries to swing a punch at him or starts firing a couple of bullets, he easily swerves the minimal attacks, making it look like he ended up getting off the easiest compared to the fighting the rest of us had to endure. It takes a moment for me to realize that it takes incredible speed to dodge bullets like that, and reflexes that are trained in anticipation to swerve each quick set of punches this human tries to strike him with; I've got respect for Nine's skill.

"Quit screwing with him and let's get out of here," John cuts both of them off, however, sounding annoyed with his voice borderline anxious; this is probably not the first time Nine's done this to someone and held the rest of the world up.

"Aw, Johnny," Nine teases, "you're not any fun."

None the less, he delivers a sharp, suddenly blow to the officer's face, a crack of his cheekbones and nose sounding right after. As the human stumbles backwards, teetering like he's about to fall, he delivers another swift uppercut, this time under his chin. Now the officer _does _fall on his back, fat rolls lolling and all as he bleeds on the ground, unconscience.

There is no sympathy on Nine's face as he declares, almost eagerly, "Well, it sounds like we've got company outside."

_**Adam **_

One lets me back in control of my own body, which relieves me but makes me disgusted, considering One's shameless discussion of secret desires are forever etched in the brain I share with her. It's girl talk that I was never interested in learning about; at least she got Five talking. She almost refuses to speak to me, even in small talk, which fills me with a combination of fear and desperation. If I'm ever going to be able to unite/ally with the Garde, I'll have to learn some way to get at least _one _of them to trust me. Then again, I guess getting into an intense fight at the Antarctica airport isn't the best way to go about gaining that.

_What should I do about her? _I ask One mentally as Five stands up, watching me carefully with flickering eyes while starting for the door.

"I'm going outside," she informs us quietly, shutting the door behind her the second both of her feet are in the hallway.

_Show her she can trust you, dumbass, _she replies, her tone implying she is rolling her eyes, _all I had to do was tell her I was a part of the Garde, so I don't know how you're going to pull it off, Mog Boy. _

_Well, gee. Thanks for the help, _now I roll _my _eyes, but I know that she's right; it won't be easy by a long shot, especially with my reputation and origin.

With a sigh, I sit on the window bench, squinting against the heavy layer of smog. In all honestly, I've got no idea where the other Garde are at or if we're going to be able to find them, but it's definitely worth a shot if it's not worth anything else. Something deep inside of me tells me that their close, and while I'm not sure how reliable my gut is, that's all I've really got run off of at this point. My eyes travel down now, falling to watch the people hurrying along the street and Five coming outside of the hotel. It's hard to tell when the room we're staying in is so high up, but she looks distressed and angry, even anxious.

_I know that look, _One tells me, _she wants to run. You better go catch her before she does. _

Quickly, I sling my pack over my shoulder, deciding not to worry about my toiletries; they're expendable and replaceable. Post an afterthought, I grab Five's back as well, starting downstairs as fast as I can. By the time I get down to the busy streets, however, she's already gone.

_**Five **_

Even if One is partially in control of him, I can't stay around Adam when he's a Mog boy.

People don't look amused as I swerve between their bodies and strollers; I ignore the glares anyway. All I care about right now is getting away as fast as I possibly can at whatever it takes, since I know that they'll be coming after me very soon. Shivering slightly as I make out of the majority of the morning rush for lack of their bodies' warmth, I turn sharply on a avenue corner, rushing toward the hills. From what I can tell, we're right on the borderline for Virginia, where I can possibly fill back on supplies and think up a new strategy.

As I continue half-running and dodging pedestrians, it dawns on me that I left my Chest back at the hotel. That can't be a good thing, but if I couldn't open it until Jemstone died, I doubt Adam will be able to with his puny girl stick-arms. Something shifts in the inside pocket of my blue jacket, and, much to my delight and relief when I reach inside, I find my dagger. It glows with a familiar blue energy when I touch it, the white metal humming almost comfortingly in my palm.

Someone is behind me now that wasn't there before. All of my muscles tense as I keep the dagger in grip, keeping my head down as I continue striding. They follow me, of course, setting me closer to the edge of turning around and decapitating whoever they are. As the countryside dawns closer from distance, their pace begins to pick up, slowly at first but gaining more ground for sure. My body has gone completely rigid at this point, the dagger seeming to glow even brighter, my adrenaline pumping rapidly.

All of the pedestrians have vanished from the streets of the outskirts of whatever city we were in, which would be eerie if not for the sun shining brightly above us, casting an early morning on whoever has been following me. The form of skinny, puny, stick arms tells me right away; the urge to fight only rises more. Even if Number One really _is _part of him, he's still a Mog Boy, part of them decimating race.

Sure enough, his voice calls out to me, sounding uncertain but borderline frantic, added on to lack of breath, "Number Five, wait!"

Him saying my name makes me hand clench around the handle of my only weapon, "Go to hell."

He's suddenly tackled me, which was just what I was waiting for. When my knees hit the pavement, I flip him over my shoulder completely, sending him crashing overhead. His form sprawls on the ground before my eyes as he gasps to regain breathing; I make this cause harder but stomping on his stomach. While he curls in a small ball, choking on his own oxygen, spit, and blood, I notice he's got my bag with him. Quickly, I yank it open, grabbing my Chest and holding it tightly.

When he regains footing, I notice that his eyes are now blue instead of the regular dark color, and he's talking in One's voice, "What the hell is your problem?"

"Mogodorians are," I snarl viciously in return; I'm not above killing both of them if they aren't above killing me, "I don't trust them, and I never will. Get that through _both _of your heads…or head."

"You think I trust them?" she sounds offended and borderline angry, "tch. I kind of have no _choice _but to trust this tool! We share a _body_ and b_rain_."

"I've got no idea how that screwed up reality happened, but it's not my problem. It's _yours_," I spit lowly.

"If you want to meet up with the other Garde, it's yours too," she rolls her eyes, like it's totally obvious and simple, "listen to me, Number Five. You don't know _anything_ about the rest of us or what we're here for, so I'm going to tell you right now.

I was Number One. There were _ten_ of us that left Lorien when the Mogodorians destroyed our people, along with a Cepan. Nine of us were on one ship with our Cepans, and we were all young. I was the oldest at nine, by the way. Anyway, we were selected by the Elders of Lorien to return to our planet one day and resume their leading roles. They put a curse on us that we could only be killed in numerical order, just as long as we never met up once we landed on Earth. So, when we got here, we parted ways.

_I _am dead. So are Numbers Two and Three. That's why we have those scars on our ankles. The Mogs killed us all, and they were going after Number Four when he met up with one of the others. As far as I know, they're all united by now, except for you. This is _exactly _why we need to find them, but in the meantime, Adam here wants to ally with you.

He _betrayed _the Mogs, alright? He is on our side; he tried to save Numbers Two and Three, in fact. If you don't want to believe the truth, then so be it. But this is e_xactly _how it is. Now, if you will please get over yourself for a minute, decide whether or not you're ready to save your planet, and if you are going to join this war or not."

Honestly, I don't want to believe her. But as I step closer and my scars become numb, my pendent begins to shine with the same blue energy as my dagger.

"No. I'm not going to join in this war," I reply confidently, with a certain edge from lust for battle, "I'm going to _win_."

_**Eight **_

I haven't know him for very long, but it's obvious enough to Nine has a twisted sense of humor.

As he sits on the ground, legs crossed and feigning innocence, I know he's the one tossing the backup police officers like they're nothing with his telekinesis. There's a smirk he's struggling to hide plastered on his face as well; he's entertaining himself. Even though I'm normally the jester and like to treat things with fun, it's annoying even me as I punch one of the officers in chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Ah, ah, ah," Nine sing-songs suddenly, snatching one of the walkie talkies from one of the female officers, who is frantically trying to call for more backup, and talking into it calmly, "we are handling the issue now. False alarm, please return to your regular duties. Over and out."

When he drops it, he grabs the lady's arm, throwing her easily against the building. She sinks to the ground, looking petrified as tears threaten to spill out of her wide, brown eyes. By the looks of it, she hasn't been on the force very long, and she knows when she's lost a battle. Her face is youthful- she can't be more than nineteen or twenty- and she cowers in presence of Nine, who looks humored and mischievous.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here, sweetheart?" he asks smoothly, like he rehearsed it in advance.

Before she can answer, I'm between both of them, pushing him away, "We have more _important_ things to be doing right now."

"Aw, man," he half teases, "you're no fun, either."

None the less, he whirls around on one heel into the mist of action, which, by the look on his face, is exactly where he wanted to be. Rolling my eyes, I offer my hand to the girl, who accepts with a shaking hand.

"Thank you…" her voice is quiet, almost more apologetic than thankful.

"Don't worry about him too much," I advise, shaking my head once, "he's got an….interesting way of looking at things. But you should probably get out of here and not call for backup, anyway."

"O-okay," she agree softly, the edge of her voice soft withheld-back hysteria while she got to her feet.

As she rushes off, I hear Nine howling behind me with laughter. When I turn around to see what's so funny now, my eyes widen a bit at the sight of Ella sobbing on the ground, red cuts on her arm; she's in a four-year-old form. Sarah is standing in front of her, looking protective and angry, but also helpless. A few of the police officers are reaching for both of them, faces frantic as they beg quietly for them to both quiet down; Sarah's gripping her cell phone in her head and to her ear.

"I'll do it!" Sarah warns, voice shaking with fear I know is only half real, "I'll call the chief!"

"No, no, no," one of the younger male officers pleads, eyes wide and hands shaking, "we'll be fired!"

"Make bad people go bye-bye!" Ella wails helpfully; they're both brilliant and even hilarious.

"Break it up," I step between both sides of the rising argument, "you all…let's say you all get in your cars and drive away, and we'll forget this even happened. How does that sound?"

Much to pleasure, they obey, making Nine howl even louder, "Ada boy, Eight!"

"Yeah," I shake my head, helping Ella to her feet, "let's get out of here."


	11. Meeting and Missing

The Hunt of Five 11

**_Author Note: _**Pwease forgive the long wait...:(

P.S. Like my new username? :)

* * *

**_Five_**

"We have to find the others sometime, you know."

"Yes, One. I know that."

She's restless and impatient; no wonder she was killed by the Mogs. I stare at the small tablet now in my hand, watching all of the dotes moving steadily together southward. All of the six other remaining Loric are together, and now all that's left is for me to find them. Once all of us are united, there's not much doubt we'll be undefeatable. Slowly, I reach and touch one of the glowing dots, feeling a burst of warmth rippling throughout my hand. Somehow, it feels like I'm touching a muscled up shirt; the dot shifts in the slighest, surprising me enough to make me pull my hand away.

"What spooked you?" she asks, casually biting out of an apple and raising an eyebrow.

"It was like I touched something just then..." I reply, cautiously reaching to touch the dot again.

"Hold your roll, Speedy," One stops my finger with her hand, "let me check."

When she touches the dot and her face remains unchanged, she looks at me wih a look of disbelief and slight smugness. She obviously doesn't believe I felt something; rolling my eyes, I reach to touch again. This time I feel something softer, like the top of a leg or a thigh, the dot jerks a bit.

"What's this thing do?" she suddenly picks up a red rock, studying it carefully before she jerks, showing me that Adam's back in control.

"No idea," he replies, studying it now with his perspective and his own eyes, "hmm..."

Slowly, I put it close to his lips and breathes out. The sound suddenly goes and echos from the tablet, seeming to dissolve somehow inside of it. My eyes go wide in surprise; weird.

"Testing, testing, testing. One, twooo, threeee."

One's suddenly back in control, talking into the stone. Just as I'm wondering if she's finally lost all that was good and decent in her head, there comes a surprised yelp from inside the tablet. It's slightly distorted, as if the owner of the yelp was doing it into a microphone. There's some shuffling over the invisible mircophone, and I about jump out of my skin when someone finally talks back.

"Hello?" the voice is low and masculine, slightly hinted with an accent that identifies him as a teenager, "...you better answer me, Whoever You Are. I'm already talking to a rock like I'm a crazy person, ya know."

There's some shuffling on his end, and a softer, higher voice chides gently, "Nine, please be nice."

"Who are you?" One asks, casually leaning against one hand to the wall, like she's done things like this every day.

"Depends on who's asking," he counters easily, his voice borderline annoyed already, so I take the stone from her, holding it to my own lips and stomaching my anxiety.

"I'm Number Five."

Its a huge risk on my end to admit it someone, but the girl _did _call him Nine. For all I know, this could be a trap by the Mogs, but I've really got no other choice right now. There's some shuffling on their other end, like their communicator is being yanked; a female voice comes on, her tone slightly deeper than the first girl's and more forceful.

"Number Five?" she demands, "how do we trust that?"

My eyes fall back on my tablet curiously. Carefully, I touch another one of the dots; there's a yelp in the background.

"Can any of you feel that?" I inquire.

"Yes!" the girl's voice from before chimes out in the background, "you...something's on my leg! Is that you?!"

Quickly, I withdraw my finger from the bony, thin surface it was on, "Yes...I think it was."

I barely get done saying it before there's more ruffling and distorted sounds on their end before another guy takes their communicator. His voice is slightly higher ton than the first guy's, but it's still deep, and even a little soulful.

"Where are you?" he asks, sounding surprised but also relieved.

"I'm not totally sure..." I shoot One/Adam a glare, "where are you guys? I've got this tablet thing here, and there are some glowing dots that were moving before in a group southward. Are you all those dots?"

"...Yeah, I think we are."

Oh great, more shuffling.

The more forceful voice is back from before; her tone is more hiestant from before, "If you really are Number Five...we need to meet up as soon as possible. We can't risk anything from the Mogodorians at this point. How did you touch Ella's leg before? Did you touch any of the dots before?"

"If you did, you were feeling me up!" Nine's voice chimes from the back, following by rude chuckling.

"Oh, my bad," I reply to Nine's rudeness, causing someone to hoot with laughter in the background, "and yes, I did...I'm not sure what it means, but it might be useful."

"I would imagine so," the girl replies, "can you telaport in any way?"

"Not last time I checked."

I stare at the tablet, and at now still dots. Cautiously, I touch a small space beside one of the dots, feeling something dusty and warm sinking beneath my finger somehow.

_This isn't possible, _I think in disbelief as One stares at me expentantly, resting her hands casually on her hips and raising an eyebrow, as if to say, _Well, go on. _

"I'm not leaving you alone."

There are two reasons I say and mean that. The first is that she's the only one I sorta-kind of trust at this point, and that's simply because it's third from impossible for her to not be who she says she is. The second is that I don't trust her not to screw all sorts of things up if I let her out of my sights, or that the Adam Mog bo won't fight back and destroy both of us.

"Well, if you're holding anybody's hand, it's not going to be mine," she retorts with an eye roll, right before their body compusles and Adam's back in control.

He gets kind of red at the thought, as if it was a really big deal for him, "Um...are you sure about this, Five?"

"Not really, but what choice do we have?" I reply with a shrug to go with my honesty, securing my grip around his own and carefully touching the area beside one of them, feeling the same sand sink and the layer of heat.

_This is a bad idea. But this is also possibly one of your only chances. So what's the right thing to do at this point? _

I'm absolutely trapped and stuck between two things that can both potiently lead to diaster. Even if this isn't the first time I've been preassured so quickly or rapidly before, it's never really been so vital. Of course the Mogodorians were always the most major threat since that fateful night Lorien was nearly destroyed completely, but my trust was never put to the test like that. I've never even met the other Garde, (except for on the airship, but it's been so long, they're probably changed in more than one way by now,) but a part of me relies on them more than I do a deceased Garde combined with a Mogodorian traitor.

"Are you still there?"

_Now or never, Number Five. Now or never. _

A moment of sudden impulse comsumes my soul, slinging me forward, into the patch of light and soaring into dusty ground fully, taking the rest of my body with it.

**_Eight _**

When Number Five started talking to us, I pulled the car on the side of the road and listened, my knuckles turning whiter and whiter the entire time for how hard I was gripping the wheel anxiously. Six asked if she was there, but before all of the reality of that fact she wasn't responding sank in, a girl appeared in the dirt, right next to driver's door. A guy who looks just a little older than herself is on his back beside her, eyes shut and body shaking with violent shivers. Marina, Ella, and Sarah look more surprised than anything else, Six and John are rigid with the natural instinct at their sudden appearance, and Nine, for who knows why, finds this to be hilarous.

"Not a bad gift from above!" he hoots the passenger seat, making John's hands grippen from where he was holding Sarah on his lap.

Since Six is between Marina and John while Ella's on Marina's lap and Sarah is still on John's, I decide to go out first. After all, if anybody needs to stick out their neck at a time like this, it's probably me, since John and Ella are still developing more professional fighting skills, Nine's already to most powerful of us, and Sarah's just a human who's still adjusting. Marina...I refuse to believe for one second she's not worth enough to be a fighter, even if she isn't very trained herself yet and is still pretty new to this entire ordeal.

By proccess of elimination, it's me who needs to go.

Slowly, I unlatch the handle of the driver's door, stepping over her body best I can. My foot wedges between their bodies as I swing my other leg over him, trying as hard as I can to not hit her head as I shut the door back. Everybody else's eyes are on me as I step away from both of them, scanning them up and down as fast as my eyes will allow me to. Both of them seem about average hieght, (which is a bit shorter than I am,) and while his body is a little more thinly built than hers, both of them appear to be in pretty good shape.

She's built in a way that resambles a mother's frame or stature, even though her face is still youthful. Her hair is brown, dark brown mainly, but her roots are light brown, almost blonde, proving that it's dyed. Her body's pretty well developed all the way around, but the way she's laying here, totally defenseless, it's like she's a little girl. With her face twisted like it is, it's obvious she's been through a lot, like she's torn in two or three different ways, and she knows that even in an unconscious state. As her eyes flutter open, I see that her eyes a deep, soulful green.

"Who are you?" she seems alert as she sits up again, which impresses me a good bit.

"I go by Eight," I reply semi-casually, hiesitating slightly as I offer her my hand, "would you happen to be Number Five?"

She hiestates herself a little bit as she accepts my hand, her own trembling the slightest underneath my skin while I pull her to her feet quickly enough, "...Yes, I am. Where am I?"

The door swings open, and Nine strides out, whistling in a low key as he takes a look at Five. I'll admit it; she's a really pretty girl. It's pretty obvious Nine thinks that too, because even I see his eyes widen a little bit, just as his famous smirk begins to make it's way across his face.

"What a catch..." he comments slyly, making me roll my eyes and her glare suspicously.

"I'm guessing you're Number Nine," she replies dryly, not sounding very amused at Nine's twisted sense of humor.

"Well, aren't you talented?" he chuckles shortly, striding over a little closer and putting himself between the two of us, his shoulder purposefully pushing against her own, causing her to recoil, "no need to be shy, sweetheart."

"I'm not a sweetheart," she shakes her head, crossing her arms and looking at him, almost sternly, "so don't treat me like I'm some kind of one-night kind of girl."

He chuckles again, sounding pleased and humored, but there's still a slight edge to his voice that proves that he's not exactly smooth with the ladies himself, "You're fiesty, Number Five. I like it."

"Get off of me," she shakes her head, pushing him away just as Six, Marina, and Ella are making their way of the car, followed quickly by John and Sarah.

"Well, at least you're not fallng head over heels for Nine," Six comments, lightly attempting for a slight joke before offering her hand to Five, "hello, Number Five. I'm Number Six."

"I'm Seven," Marina introduces herself.

"I'm Number Four," John says next, "but most people call me John."

"I'm Sarah..." she seems a little shy; I probably would be too if I was a human among a group of a barely-surrving alien race, "um...I'm John's girlfriend."

"And I'm Ella," she pipes up last, biting her lower lip a bit nervously, "um...and I'm Number Ten."

Five throws a sideways glance at the guy on the ground, almost accusingly. It's almost as if he's told her something that she just figured out was a lie, but she can't quite figure out why. Nine looks to him as well, raises an eyebrow as if he just now noticed his presenace, and suddenly jerks him off the ground, just as he's stirring an inch. His eys snap open as he's shoved onto the hood of the car, causing it creak as Nine gets in his face, looking borderline vicious instantly.

"Who are you and why were you with Number Five?" he demands sharply; a shudder goes through the guy.

A part of me wants to tell Nine to lay off, but I'm beginning to understand his motives for doing what he does. After all, this guy could be a Mogodorian or a spy that didn't know her or was following/trickig her, so it's important to keep our gaurd up at all times, no matter who it's for. Five looks annoyed when he does this and strides over, starting to try and push him away from her (possible) friend.

"Get off of him, pervert," her tone is sharp and strict-set, which seems to humor hm.

"And if I don't?" in response, he started pressing the guy down a little harder to the hood, causing the metal to shift and creak in protest underneath all of the extra wieght.

She looks annoyed and like she's about to retort something, but I cut in first, "She's right about you needing to let up, dude. Can't you hear that the car's even saying you need to work out more?"

Marina, Ella, and Sarah all begin giggling under their covers mouths, face turning red from effort of silencing it. Six smirks at me, striding over herself and grabbing Nine's shoulder, pulling him off the guy instantly, causing him to gas and take it in more oxegen. Before he can try breaking free, John takes Nine's arm, steadying him without words as I get the other guy to his feet.

"Who are you?" I ask myself, a bit more calmly than Nine did before me.

"My name's Adam..." his voice faulters out as he struggles to regain his composure, "and I...I'm a friend of Five's. R-right, Five?"

Much to all of our relieves, she nods.

* * *

**_Michele _**

Emily left me all alone, just like my parents did.

An older boy named Brandon is stroking my hair, trying to soothe me and keep my quie. It's really late, but I really miss her. I felt like I could trust her, maybe even like I trusted Jessie, but now she's gone, forever and ever. Brandon feels really warm and secure, but it reminds me too much of her; I hiccup softly.

"Michele, are you alright?" he asks in a sort of croon, "do you need anything, sweetheart?"

"E-Emily," I whimper, starting to cry softly, "I w-want Em-Emily!"

He looks so sorry and so sad, but all I can do is bury my face in my hands. All I can do is cry, and cry, cry. And all I can do is remember Jessie.


	12. Jessie and Emily

The Hunt of Five 12

_**Nobody's P.O.V. **_

_"Climb onto my back, kiddo," Jessie squatted down in front of five-year-old Michele, arching her back to make it easier._

_"Where we goin' now?" the younger asked, taking the backs of her shoulder and boosting herself up, nestling her knees around Jessie's ribs and wrapping her arms around her neck. _

_"We're just going to take a little walk," the seventeen-year-old's words assured the young child, but she was lying._

_In truth, the two girls were on the run, much to the Loric the younger didn't know existed. Two years before, Michele's parents abandoned her at an adoption home, leaving her in the care of a dangerous man and a demon-set women that were really in hiding from the law. Jessie noticed that, since she'd seen the woman slapping a child once, and had taken action is helping out the little kids trapped there. After she'd called the law and the police were invading the space, taking kids away and arresting the two adoption 'parents', she couldn't help but notice the little crying three-year-old, soon to be four-year-old, in the corner, hiding best she could from all the chaos and authorities. _

_Jessie, who was reckless and impulsive at heart, took the child under her wing. However, Michele wasn't the only orphan, and Jessie was on the run ever since she'd been caught stealing food from several places across the U.S. Now they were in Louisiana, in one of the buggy bayous that was supposed to be a shortcut toward their home. _

_Obviously it wasn't, and their truck was now stuck. _

_Now the older girl was trekking along the mud, her companion on her back. She was half worried about someone coming along and discovered the red, beat-up truck before she was able to get it free, but she was about as worried about that happening as someone discovering the little hut they were hiding out in. Before their temporary home was in view completely, though, her lack of worry turned into horror. _

_ "Who are they?" Michele asked innocently from her back, watching two men in a dark brown coats come out of their hut, tossing some of their food into the back of a large black van parked beside it. _

_ "I'm not sure," Jessie narrowed her eyes to herself as she slipped the child off of herself, "you stay here, alright? I'm going to take care of it." _

_ "Are you okay?" Michele asked again, eyes shining with worry. _

_ "Wonderful," even as the teenager reassured the youth, she scowled to herself when she turned her back, more at the men than anything else. _

_ "What's the big idea?!" she demanded, flipping open her pocket knife as she marched up to the two, scowling dangerously and darkly, "because I swear if you don't return anything you just stole from my house, I'll-" _

_ She wasn't able to finish before one had slapped her sharply against the face, sending her to the ground with force no human possessed. Wildly, she scrambled, trying to regain her footing in the slippery mud and spit out the blood filling her mouth. The same man grinned, showing a row of sharp teeth, before snatching her neck, cutting off her airway as he lifted her further and further above the ground. _

_ "She is not one of them," the second man mumbled, his own eyes on her bare ankles, which were exposed because of her knee-length tan pants, "what do you propose we do with this….human?" _

_ Blindly, Jessie clawed for the first guy's hand, causing his grip to disappear and for her to hit her feet too hard and fast. Something cracked in her foot as she cried out in the pain, landing on her back and crumpling. Even so, she immediately started scrambling, resting her weight on her good leg/foot and wielding her knife in a fighting position. _

_ "I'll kill every one of you sick bastards, whatever you are," her tone was dark. _

_ "Humans are fools," the first guy simply chuckled, kicking up his foot so suddenly and sharply that she never had a second to dodge it; it connected sharply with her stomach and send her sprawling, the knife flying from her desperate grip, "thinking of themselves so highly, then failing so miserably when they meet their match. It truly is pathetic, isn't it?" _

_ Without a second thought, the second guy stomped down on her chest, causing the air to leave her lungs as her ribs crushed against them. The girl was left there, gasping, as both men calmly walked to their van and drove away, looking almost satisfied. The moment they appeared to be gone, Michele ran over to her friend, tears starting to go down her face already. _

_ "Jessie!" she wailed, "Jessie! They took our stuff….we gotta go catch 'em, Jessie!" _

_ The seventeen year old laid there motionlessly as a response, which surprised the five year old. Jessie was __never __quiet unless she was scared or maybe asleep, which perplexed the child. She didn't understand how she could be asleep when two men just stole almost all of their belongings and beat her up like that so easily, so she began shaking her. _

_ "C'mon, Jessie! We gotta go!" she urged, but only got a blank stare in response, "Jessie, stop playing! Stop playing with me! It's not funny!" _

_ It took all the nearly lifeless teenager had, but her blank gaze fixated onto Michele. Her mouth was open from gasping, but she couldn't move her jaw. A horrible numbness was spreading for lack of proper oxygen, and her ribs were ripping apart her lungs with every movement. _

_ Slowly, she managed to wrap her fingers around Michele's. _

_ "Jessie?" the little girl whispered, "Jessie, are you sleepy?" _

_ She didn't know it right then, but it was too late. Jessica just laid there, her soul long gone from her body, her eyes endlessly on her partner. It was truly the last thing she saw before her time came, and the last thing she felt. _

_It was how she wanted to go, but Michele was growing frantic as these things slowly dawned partially in her five-year-old mind. In her immature mind, she realized that her best friend and protector wasn't going to 'wake up', and that she was all alone. _

_ "911, what is your emergency?" a voice crackled to life on the cell phone Jessie had in her pocket after the, (now sobbing,) girl dialed those three numbers, just like she'd been told to do if there was ever big trouble. _

_ "Jessie's not waking up!" she sobbed, "she's not waking up ever again!" _

* * *

**Michele's P. O. V. **

I just got done remembering Jessie's death.

Even if I didn't know what it was then, I learned soon from a police lady. After that, I was put in a different adoption home with some nicer people, but I was still really scared. I didn't want to hurt me again, so I ran to the airport and snuck on. That's when I met Emily, and when she said she was going to take care of me, I believed her. She reminded me of Jessie.

But now I'm alone again, and I'm really scared.

I've still got Brandon and his really nice family, but it's not what I want or maybe even need. What I need want is my Jessie, or Emily. They made me feel really, really safe, and like I had a family. My mommy and daddy didn't want me; they told me I was an accident and a screw-up.

I really don't want to be an accident to anyone again.

"Do you know where she might've gone?" Brandon asks me in a nice, gentle-like voice, but I just hiccup sadly.

"Nu-uh," I shake my head, "I don't r-really kn-know her."

He looks surprised and really confused, "What? She told me you two were sisters."

Sisters. That's what Jessie told everybody, and everybody believed her. It got us some money and food sometimes.

"I mean….." I shake my head again, sniffling, "I don't know where she would go. I just…..I just want Emily!"

I let myself start crying super hard all over again, causing him to hold him super tight. He's a nice boy, and he's kind of cute; I hope he will be like Jessie or Emily, even if he can't.

* * *

_**Five's P.O.V. **_

I've made a few conclusions from my first couple of hours with the other Garde members:

1.) Number Four/John loves the human, Sarah, but Number Six also likes him, even though he doesn't seem to notice.

2.) Number Ten, Ella, is a lot younger than expected.

3.) Six and Number Eight work really well together, and Eight seems like a pretty cool guy.

4.) Number Seven/Marina likes Eight.

5.) Nine is screwed up. Seriously.

I guess I can kind of understand why he might want to flirt with all the other love going around, but how he does it is messed up. He thinks that touching my lower back and 'casually' squeezing my upper thigh will excite me; twice, it's gotten him slapped across the face. The truck we're in only seats five at one time to make it even better, so I ended up having to choose between sitting in either Eight or Nine's lap while the other drove, since Ella was in Marina's lap, Sarah was in John's, and Six refused to sit in anybody else's lap, especially when Nine offered to 'go easy on her'.

Now I'm sitting in Eight's lap while Nine, (once again,) cranks up the music as loud as he possibly can to some kind of rap song, not seeming to mind that Ella was hearing the profanity or 'dirty' subjects.

"SHUT UP ALREADY!" Six finally shouted even louder than the music, suddenly lunging forward and smashing in the panel, cutting off the sound aruptly with a loud smash.

Sarah, Ella, and Marina wince as flops back in her seat, looking truly peeved off at this point. Nine just smirks but keeps his eyes on the road, like it didn't affect him whatsoever. Eight and John just shake their heads, a scowl on John's face as he wraps his arms around Sarah protectively, which doesn't seem to amuse Six. I just turn my face to the window, staring out half longingly. All of my life after Lorien's destruction, I've wanted to find the other Garde members. Now that I have, I'm not sure what to think of them at all, other than the five conclusions I got from first impressions earlier.

A large part of me really wants to like them all, but I'm starting to second guess that as Nine suddenly swerves unessacarily, which I know smacks Adam around in the truck once again. Scowling, I look over at him and punch him in the arm, nowhere near as hard as I could. His smirk grows as he turns his face toward me, looking smug.

"Problem, sweetheart?" he half purrs.

"Yes," I reply bitterly, "your face. Everytime I look at it, I feel like I'm going blind."

"Um...Five...?" Ella's voice comes timidly from the backseat, "some of us go back our names, you know. Like...I go back Ella, and everybody calls Four John. Do you have a name you want to be called by, too?"

Huh. I guess I don't _really _have one; Jemstone and Summer always just called me Five or whatever random alias we came up with in whatever town we were in. Before I tell her that, though, I think back to Michele. With her huge, innocent eyes and meek, sweet, youthful face, she reminds me a little too much of Michele. Sweet little Michele, who I left behind without an explaination or, at the very least, a goodbye. Guilt yanks at my heart; I know I have to honor her somehow.

"You can call me Emily," I reply finally, thinking back to what Michele called me.

"That's a pretty name," she replies sweetly, making heart crack a little bit with the reminder and from the pure adorableness of it; she's a sweetheart.

"Well, I think I'll call you Five," Nine states smugly from the driver's seat, "it's got a ring to it."

"Whatever you say, Stanley," John comments smartly from the back himself now, and I have to snicker. Maybe I _will _end up liking them...

* * *

**_Author Note:_**Sorry for the shortness of Five's P.O.V., but I thought it was about time to reveal who Jessie was and what all happened to Michele. Now, I turn to you, the glorious fans!

What do you think should happen next? I've got some more plot points ready, but I need ideas to help me get there, and to see what you guys would like! :)

Please don't forget the lonely review button...it wants attention, too!


	13. Night in the Old Hotel

The Hunt of Five 13

_**Author Note: **_Hello again, all of my lovelies! Yes, I'm a horrible updater….:(. I'm sorry….I've just got so many other unfinished stories, and I've got so many new ideas coming in that I want to write about! X.X. Oh, the wonderful life of a writer…:P. Lol, just kidding.

Like I mentioned in my past author note, though, it would be _amazing _if you guys could give me some ideas for what could happen next! What couples do you ship in this story? Any particular fluff scenes you'd like to see in the future? Things like that….thanks to the guest reviewer who suggested a scene I will be using in this chapter between Nine and Six….*Maniacal laugh.*

Enjoy, I love you all! :D

* * *

_**Nine's P.O.V. **_

Honestly, it's just not fair how beautiful some girls are.

It's nighttime by now, which means pretty much everybody else is passed out by now; they better just hope I don't take the same initiative and wreck us off the road. Even so, the darkness gives me a little bit more of a cover to sneak glances over at Number Five, sizing her up and checking her out. She's got some rocking curves, full lips, and a pretty face; she's basically _way _out of my league. That, of course, means that I'm going to do everything I possibly can to get my hands on those fine hips and our lips locked.

Johnny snores from the backseat- or that might have been Six or something- making me roll my eyes and bang on the console, causing Eight to jerk beside me and Seven's knees to stop drilling into my lower back for a second from behind as Six hisses, "What the hell?!"

"We're almost there, so get your panties out of a wad," I just smirk at her through the rearview mirror, "and you can stop glaring at me like that, Number Five. We're going to get that little friend of yours out of the back when we park."

"Adam…." Five says breathlessly as she peers into the open trunk of our truck, "are you okay?"

"My head hurts now…." He mumbles, one of his arms coming into view first as he struggles to sit up, "you guys couldn't have taken a less ruff path?"

"Nope," I chuckle darkly, grabbing the arm that emerged first and yanking him forward, pulling him out of the trunk and allowing him to drop like a sack of grain on the concrete pavement of the parking lot of some outdated, seemingly forgotten hotel in the suburbs of some small town that has a population of (maybe,) thirty.

Five suddenly shoves me backwards, which isn't enough to make me lose my balance but surprises me a bit, "What the hell is your problem, punk?"

She pulls back her first again, as if she's going to punch my stomach or something, but I just raise my palm calmly to block it, smirking devilishly, "I'm not the one freaking out over a Mogodorian traiter boy."

It honestly takes me off guard when something sharp connects with my lower stomach, knocking the wind out of me a bit. I stare in surprise like an idiot at her as she rears back her fist again, swinging out for more, but this time I catch the punch, gripping her fist in my iron hold.

"Don't.," I say each word slowly and darkly, "_ever_. Hit. Me. Again,"

Her eyes go wide, flashing a bit themselves with some held comeback against the pale streetlights. I stare back into her eyes silently and motionlessly as Adam stumbles back to his feet, shrinking backwards, toward her and away from me. Sarah is clinging to John on the side, and Ella looks petrified/shocked beside Marina as she grips her hand tightly. Even Six looks surprised as she crosses her arms over her chest, observing us from a distance on the other side of Johnny Boy.

"Then shut up and make yourself useful," Five finally mutters out lowly, looking away and grabbing Adam's arm, pulling him until they're inside of the hotel.

"Good riddance," I mutter sourly myself, reaching over the rim of the trunk and pulling out a few backs, balancing them by their straps on either one of my arms and half facing the others, "are you all going to stand there looking pretty or going inside?"

Six shakes her head, annoyance flashing in her own eyes as Marina walks beside her, stumbling slightly, probably from exhaustion. Sarah slings one arm over John's shoulders weakly, both of them stumbling their ways forward; I roll my eyes. Eight picks up a bag I forget to grab the back, shaking his head at me once before following his little girlfriend-I mean Marina.

Seriously, you'd think they'd figure out they both 'love each other very much' by now and get together.

But obviously to be two unknown lovers like some kind of cheesy fairytale that little girls, for some reason, like to hear.

Whatever.

Just as I'm starting to head in myself, I notice that Ella is still standing their. Her arms are at her sides; she looks like she's trembling. Striding over easily, I bump her gently in the temple with one of the bags still hanging from my air, which makes her jump as she seemingly comes out of a daze. I raise an eyebrow at that.

"What's your sitch?" I ask directly, but she just kind of shakes her head, walking inside briskly.

_Well good riddiance to you, too. _

* * *

_**Adam's P.O.V. **_

I am hurt. I am very much hurt.

But that doesn't really matter right now.

"_Why do you put up with that guy?_" One asks me, sounding unamused and crossing her arms from where she exsists in the back of my mind, "_you and I both know that you could give a good fight." _

_I wouldn't win, _I retort to her, not speaking out aloud as I sit down shakily in one of the large circle-seat chairs that are set in front of a small table inside the hotel room, _he looks like one of the strongest. _

"_So?" _She shrugs, and I roll my eyes a little.

_It's your body too. That's all I'm saying, _I retort thinly and bluntly; she shuts up for now.

In the meantime, the Garde and I have seemed to find ourselves in a little bit of a problem. Since this town is so small and obviously doesn't have a lot of visitors/tourists stopping in, the hotel is run down and far past it's years. They only have ten rooms, (that's a combination of the five on the first story and the five on the second,) which all only have one bed and some chairs in them as well as small, moldy bathrooms and broken microwaves. According to the clerk, an few old ladies live in five of the rooms with their husbands, a young couple is another, and I can hear the rock music of a few drunk teenagers in the next two rooms. This means we've got two beds and apparently five chairs to split between the nine of us.

That's obviously not exactly...ideal.

Nine smirks, though, dropping our bags all at once and flopping down on the bed before grinning wickedly to the girls, "Alright, ladies. Who wants to share with me?"

"Get up," Four rolls his eyes, slapping his chest, which only Nine smirks and stretch out further, pretty much taunting the rest of us.

"Yes, Nine, you're very pretty when you're hogging the bed like the punk you are," Emily scowls from where she's standing, crossing her arms angrily at him, "now get your ass up before I beat you."

"I'd like to see you try, Number Five."

Scowling deeply again, she makes a sudden, (though somewhat predicted,) lunge to him. He's obviously faster than he appears to be, though, and easily dodges her, rolling off the side of the bed and leaving her to fall over it, her fist meeting the mattress after meeting air. Like a flash, he grabs her hips, yanking her back to her feet and sending her stumbling backwards. Six doesn't seem to like that and swings a punch at his face quickly, too fast for most humans, (or assumed Loric,) to be able to dodge in time. She _does _catch his jaw with her knuckles, but he manages to knock down the fist to miss most of his face.

Both of them recover quickly nonetheless.

In another instant, she's tackled him around the waist, sending both of them crashing to the floor, making it creak and crack underneath the sudden weight. He laughs loudly as she growls a bit in her throat, like a wild animal, just before throwing her off of him. She's not prepared for that force and falls hard on her shoulder, which only makes her mad. Emily brings her foot down now, directly on his abdomen, which knocks the wind out of him.

Now that he's been hit hard, he seems to be angry.

"I told you..." his voice is tight and lined with anger as he gets up slowly, towering over the rest of us, "to never. Hit. Me. Again."

"Well, I didn't," she snaps shortly, "I _kicked _you."

It's very apparent it doesn't to matter to him that she's a girl; he punches her in the jaw sharply and so fast it was like a blurred flash. This pisses her off, too, and in no time she's got him against the wall with his hands almost crushing her neck. By the way her face gets red, she can't breathe, but his own face is twisted in pain as both of their eyes blaze furiously. Just as I'm about to stumble back to my feet, despite the fact that my shoulder is killing me, John grabs Nine's hands from around Emily's neck, trying to pry them free as Six delivers a punch to his stomach. He grunts but lets go, hand flying out and slapping her cheek blindly as he shoves both John and Emily away.

"Stop it!" Sarah finally blurts out, her eyes wide as she throws out her hands to the side a bit.

"The girls get one room, and you guys can get the other. We can sort it out as we will that way," Marina tells them as everybody's gaze whirl to them as they stand side by side.

"Marina's right," Eight cuts in just as Nine is opening his mouth to say something, "let's get out of here."

With that, he grabs Nine's arm, starting to pull him toward the door. It's obvious now more than ever he _could _break free of his grip, but he goes with it for motives that are unkown to me at this point. Only as John kisses Sarah goodnight do I realize that, since I'm in control of my own body and they don't know about One sharing my mind, I have to go with the guys.

Worriedly, I shoot Emily a slightly panicked glance as One sighs in the back of our mind. In response to my glance, Emily just shakes her head and sighs, rubbing the small fingertip-shaped bruises imprinting on her neck from where Nine had gripped her. Swallowing nothing in my dry throat, I slowly follow John, heart hammering even more rapidly than normal.

When we get inside the room, Nine has once again made himself at home on the bed and is smirking at we three, "So which one of you pretty boys is going to share with me?"

"Screw you, Nine," John scowls, sitting down in one of the chairs and resting his head against the wall.

Eight rolls his eyes himself before starting to peel off his shirt. Awkwardly, I skirt to another chair myself, sitting down and, post an afterthought, decide against bringing my knees to my chest like I want. The last thing I want is to seem completely helpless in front of these guys when they already don't trust me/think I'm useless. Eight sits in the chair between John and I, and, post an afterthought, yanks one of the blankets off the bed, away from Nine, with his telekinesis; he doesn't seem to mind too much. John snorted shortly, swinging his legs over the armrest of her chair and tilting his head back, snoring in no time at all.

Nine looks over to me with a snort, "Well? What are you planning to do, Mog Boy?"

Blushing a little, I duck my head and cover my head with arms finally. He laughs tauntingly until I eventually doze off...

* * *

_**Ella's P.O.V.**_

"Then it's settled."

Emily nods once after stating this, striding over to the chair and sitting down beside Sarah. I go to the small closet nearby, puling out a few blankets and draping them over the two of them. When I get back, Marina and Six are laying on either side of the bed, a space between them meant for me. Still concerned myself, I look over to Emily as she pulls the quilt around her body tightly.

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

After all, she did _just _meet up with all of us; it doesn't seem right that she would have to sleep in a chair. But she just shakes her head, resting her head against one armrest and closing her eyes, looking content enough. Though reluctantly, I crawl in the free space on the bed, nestling between my two older sister figures and closing my eyes.

* * *

"_Ella, no!" Papa shouts at me, grabbing my small wrist and jerking me away from the road, just as a big truck crushes my teddy bear I accidently flung onto the pavement while spinning in a circle with it in the front of yard of the neighborhood we were staying at. _

_Tears well in my eyes as I look at my flattened beloved toy. Papa begins to scold me and tell me how I shouldn't be so careless, but I'm hardly listen as I burst into tears. He stops in mid lecture when he do, his strict expression softening a bit as he looks to me, then at my toy. After looking around cautiously, he strides into the road, picking it up and carrying it back to me. When he hands it back to me with all of the stains and rips now on the squashed material, I start to cry harder. _

"_Papa, make it better!" I wail, looking at him and begging, "Teddy die!" _

_Carefully, he takes it back, staring at it. I don't really realize it because I'm about three or four, but he obviously doesn't know what to do when it's flattened beyond repair. The scene shifts suddenly, and he's tucking me into my little bed. Tear stains are still on my red cheeks as my tiny arm goes to the place where my toy bear used to be belong when I'd fall asleep at night; my eyes shine anew. _

"_I miss Teddy," I hiccup miserably. _

"_He'll be all better tomorrow," Papa promises me, kissing my forehead. _

_Once again the scene changes to what appears to be the next day. I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, sucking my thumb as Papa comes back in from his room, holding something behind his back. When he presents a stuffed bear, I squeal in delight, throwing my arms around it and kissing it's face many times. _

"_You fix Teddy!" I crow. _

_By the looks of it, it's a brand new teddy bear, but of course I can't tell that. Now I hug Papa's leg, thanking him several times as he smiles in relief. _

* * *

When I open my eyes again, the bed is empty. Alarmed, I squint through the darkness; it looks like it's still night. That's when I notice the light from the bathroom on and the door shut, meaning one of them is in the bathroom. A shadowy figure moves away from the chair Sarah is asleep in, and I catch a glimpse of dark hair as she-whoever she is- climbs back in the bed. Questioning, I look to her, touching her arm lightly to let her know I'm awake; she jumps slightly at my fingertips on her arm.

"Oh. Ella," Six's voice breaths out from beside me, "what are you doing awake?"

"I had a dream about Papa," I whisper, my voice kind of sad at the reminder of him being dead now, "why are you awake?"

"Can't sleep," she replies, "Sarah kicked off her quilts, so I just wanted to fix them for her."

Emily shifts restlessly from her chair, quieting both of us instantly….well, at least until Marina flushes the toilet. Unable to help it, I burst into a fit of giggles, covering my mouth to quiet them down. I'm not really sure why it's funny….I guess it's just because things were all silent until that happened. Suddenly, my mind flashes me back to that Catholic Church orphanage at Mass, when I was caught laughing and paddled because of it.

My laughs die instantly at the reminder of that horrible place, and that horrible memory.

Six looks at me through the dark, touching my arm lightly, like she's concerned. That's when Marina comes back out, switching off the light and climbing back in the bed on my other side. Shaking my head, I snuggle quietly between them and try going back to sleep.

* * *

_**John's P.O.V. **_

It wasn't easy to fall asleep last night.

The drunk guys' music was blaring into the early morning hours, which made it next to impossible for me to doze off. Nine and Eight didn't seem to mind too much themselves, and I'm not sure about the Mogodorian traitor boy; all I know is that I'm not in a good mood when Nine punches me in the shoulder to wake me up way too soon for my taste in the morning.

"Come on, bro," he urges, already dressed for the day and impatient as always, "we're having a meeting in the girls' room."

Groaning, I rake my hands through my hair a couple of times and roll out of the chair, not bothering to try changing clothes when I'm barely awake. I stumble after him into the next room, basically collapsing onto the nearest open chair and letting my head flop back onto the top of the cushion. Someone sits on my lap and wraps their arms around my neck, gently kissing my lips and snuggling close, keeping me nice and warm with their body.

_Sarah. _

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she teases, playing with a couple of my curls and making me smile weakly.

Slowly, I reopen my eyes and look around through my groggy daze. Marina, Six, and Ella are all sitting at the foot of the bed together, and Eight is plopped down in the chair beside me, looking sleepy himself, suggesting maybe he didn't sleep really well himself. Nine is on his other side in a chair, and Emily is sitting on Six's other side on the other side of the bed quietly, almost a still a statue; she's nervous.

"…I guess the first question is where we're headed now," Six begins, looking over to Nine pointingly, since he_ has_ been the one driving.

He smirks, eyes shining with slight mischief, "Don't worry about that too much. We're going to hide in plain sight."

_Hiding in plain sight. _

"Don't tell me we're going back to that penthouse," I pipe up, my voice sounding more annoyed than already am.

"You act like I tortured you there," he spits in a retort, "unless _you _have any better ideas."

"Penthouse?" Emily raises an eyebrow at that, as do the rest of them.

His cocky smirk only grows wider as he leans back 'casually', looking as smug and proud of himself as ever, "My Cepan has got us the entire floor on the John Hancock Center all for us, all paid for. The place is practically mine now, and it's got enough rooms and cool stuff for us to live the high life for a while."

"Hiding in plain sight…." Six repeats in a musing tone, "what if we're attacked there? If we're on the one hundredth floor, then it's practically impossible to get down."

Nine sneers, "We're not going to get attacked."

"So anyway," Marina cuts in now to prevent the argument from getting any more intense, "Emily….why don't you tell us a little bit about your….past?"

_**Five/Emily's P.O.V. **_

I can't help but tense up as everybody's eyes shift directly on me.

"What do you mean my past?" my voice is tight and rigid; I want Adam or One to be in here with me now.

"Like….what you were doing before you got in touch with us," Eight offers from where he's been, making me bite my lower lip.

Trusting them is still a question to me, so I'm not really keen on the idea of telling them about myself. Even if we all are the last Loric alive, their personalities differ and clash so much I can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by it all. Just over two weeks ago, I was on the run alone and living only to avenge my Cepan, my best friend/Cepan's daughter, and to somehow meet up with my fellow Loric.

Now that I have, I almost regret wishing all of that.

"I just…..moved around a lot," I finally admit, just reluctantly, "when we arrived on Earth, for a while, my Cepan and I moved around. She had a daughter about my age as well….we all just traveled and tried to stay hidden."

"She had a daughter?" Six's eyes widen.

"Her name was Summer, and my Cepan's name was Jemstone," I admit softly, then continue with all the bravery I can muster, "…when Summer and I were about eleven, Jemstone was murdered by the humans. They found us and tortured us until she was….well, dead. Summer and I moved around for a long time, and then when we were about fourteen, she was captured as well. I think she's dead, too. Even since then I've been killing as many Mogodorians as I can get my hands on."

Something flashes in Six's eyes; recognition, "How old are you now, Emily?"

"Seventeen," I say quietly.

"….Well damn," Nine concludes, standing up, "well, if we're going to that penthouse, we might as well go now before Johnny here passes out."

Slowly, we all filter out toward the truck. As I sit awkwardly in Eight's lap again, I can't help but close my eyes. I hardly slept last night thanks to that loud music from a couple of doors down, so I guess now is as good of a time as ever. Adam/One is in the back again, and a part of me wants to check on him, but that's before my eyes shut.

The second I'm asleep, I'm plunged into memories that are both haunting and beautiful.

* * *

_**Author Note: **_Emily's POV will be long the next chapter for SURE!

So, remember to give me ideas for the plot please, and to answer your question of who the girl in picture is, I've got no clue…:P. I just Googled her based on what Five looks like, and here we are! :P

Please review, and have an awesome day/night! I love you all! :D


	14. Past Experiences

The Hunt of Five 13

Author Note:Thanks for the suggestions, guys! Keep 'em coming! :)

* * *

_**Five's P. O. V.**_

_"Is he actually asleep?"_

_I am five years old again, standing on the ship from Lorien with all of the original Garde and their Cepans. Jemstone is off talking to Seven's Cepan; I'm with who I know realize is Number Six. We're standing over Number Nine, who appears to asleep on the floor. (For once.)_

_"I think so," Six replies, smirking evilly._

_"What are you thinking?" I grin devilishly myself now._

_"Now, now, come on you two," Nine's Cepan chides us from behind before we can draw on his face, "go on."_

_At that, both of us begin pouting as I whine, "But he's a jerk!"_

_He chuckles, bending down carefully and kissing my forehead, "You two will be a fine couple one day, dear."_

_I gag, "What is wrong with your head?!"_

_He just laughs again, "Nothing."_

_That's about the time Nine stirs, snorting slightly and opening his eyes. He doesn't look amused at us all standing over him._

_"What are you starin' at?" He sneers._

_"You," Six spits, "you were asleep."_

_"Hey!" A little boy with blonde hair- Four- shouts from the other side of the ship, "who took my toy?!"_

_As he looks around frantically, I look over to Six. She looks pretty guilty as she holds said toy behind her back, a toy truck. Sighing, she goes back to him, extending the possession. While they're making ammendments over there, Nine's getting back to his feet, crossing his arms at me. His face is a mixture of indecision, like he can't decide if he's going to pout, throw a fit and yell at me, or tackle me._

_He ends up doing all three._

_"What's your sitch?" I squeal, kicking furiously as he pins me to the ground by my waist._

_"You woke me up with your eyes!" he yells, trying to land a punch on my shoulder._

_Glaring, I try pushing him off, dodging the punch with a jerk. He grunts when his fist meets the tile ground instead of skin, pulling back again, only to be scooped up by his Cepan instead._

_"Alright, alright," he shakes his head, constraining him to his chest as Jemstone comes over to get me back up, "I think we need to seperate these two."_

_"I'm not done with her yet!" Nine yells, kicking and squirming._

_"I'm not done with him, niether!" I yell back, trying to tackle both of them and getting grabbed around the waist by Jemstone instead._

_"Okay, I think you two need a time out," she decides, dragging me over to a corner while Nine's Cepan does the same to him; both of us start fighting against them harder and making a fuss._

_"I don't like him!" I start sniffling when she faces me against said corner, "he's so mean!" _

_"You'll make a nice couple one day," Jemstone just chuckles._

_I distinctly remember thinking that something was wrong with her head, too._

* * *

_The scene shifts, and suddenly we are all standing in the grass together, our Cepans holding our Chests beside us. Nine is the last to get off the ship; we glare at each other as the Cepans begin hugging each other and all of us Garde. At the time, I didn't really_ _get why they looked so sad, but subconsciously, I now know exactly why. As I begin reliving the vision, I subconsciously pay more attention to the first three Garde members who came off the ship._

_The first one is one of the oldest out of all us, a girl with blonde hair and who looks about nine years old, tops. The second one is also a girl with curly red hair and bunch of freckles; she's about seven. The third is a tall-enough, slim boy of about four, who looks around nervously and fidgets. The two girls are hugging tightly, both of their faces sad and teary._

_"I don't want to leave One, though," Two pouts up to her Cepan sadly, eyes pleading._

_"Niether do I, kiddo," he just sighs, scooping up the child, "but we have too. You'll see her again_ _one day soon, though."_

_"Do you promise?" She sniffles, voice filled with hope._

_"...Absolutely." _

_Wrapping his arms around her a little tighter, he begins in the other direction. Two watches us with sad eyes over his shoulder, waving sadly. Frowning at her tears, I wave back._

_"Five," Jemstone comes over, gripping the small hand of six year old Summer, "it's time for us to go."_

_"But...but I don't wanna go," I stick out my lower lip myself, "I like it with Six." _

_I look around in search for my friend, but she's disappeared, just like Two and now One. Three is following his Cepan in tears while Four clings to the front of his Cepan's shirt, going in the exact opposite direction of them. I turn back to Jemstone and Summer, pouting more; a boy with curly black hair and green eyes that looks about seven- Eight- hugs me. _

_"Be safe," he whispers kindly before going to hug a crying Seven._

_Nine ends up hugging me as well; both of our Cepans chuckle, even though their faces are sad. I wondered why as Jemstone took my arm, pulling me along with Summer in her other hand's grasp. I look back at Nine, who's being carried off by his Cepan as well. I squirm a bit, turning to go back._

_"You'll see him again," Jem whispers weakly, her voice thick with grief._

_"I want to tell him to never touch me again!" I insist, but she just shakes her head._

_"Mama...where are we going?" Summer whispers smally, "where's Jeremy? The nice Cepan man for that baby told me he was with you." _

_Jem's eyes are teary now. I didn't learn this that night, but she'd suffered a miscarriage because of wounds when the Mogs invaded. That night, though, she just kept going into the unknown, heading for Arkansas. _

_That was one the last times I saw her cry._

* * *

_"Look out!" _

_Summer tackles me, shielding me from the blasts surrounding us. We're both about eleven in this memory, and we're being attacked. Through the darkening smoke, I struggle to find Jemstone; I don't have Legacies yet, and I know I'm useless against Mogs without at least a weapon._

_"Are you okay?" I ask hoarsely, feeling something wet splattering on my shoulder from her face is now._

_"My back...burnt..." She manages, but gets up none the less and stances from in front of me._

_"Don't protect me!" I feel my eyes widening as I whirl around, standing just an invh from being back-to-back with her, "we'll do it together!"_

_"Okay!" she agrees, a look of detirmation on her face that I'd never seen before._

_Together, we charge toward the Mogodorians, both trying to brave through the lines of fire. Niether of us have any kind of weapon, so we're scrambling to find Jem. Through the flurry of bullets and fire, I finally catch of glimse of her bronze hair. Blood runs down the side of her face; she's crashing to the ground. A Mogodorian looms over her, bringing down his foot on her arm. The action creates a loud crack, which splits both the air and my heart. _

_"Jemstone!" I scream, rushing toward her in a wild stumble, "JEMSTONE!"_

_"Mommy!" Summer screams, lunging out and connecting with me, "no!" _

_"Get off of me!" I shout loudly, kicking wildly and clawing at her face, "we have to save her! WE HAVE TO SAVE HER!" _

_A large hand that belongs to niether of them snatches one of my clawing hands. Gasping with crushing pain it brings, I squirm wildly, digging down my nails as deeply as I can; the skin is tough and dusty. I'm yanked to my feet, flung with no mercy into a darked room. My head connects with something metal, and all I see before a black out is the sunlight being slammed away by a door._

* * *

_Electricity courses violently and instantly through his body; he drops, motionless. _

_The two women that we were him stare in utter shock, horror, and confusion. Meekly, I sit in the blue plastic chair, contrained by leather straps and rope. I can barely move my head as I'm forced to watch the humans try to eletrocute me, torture me, and/or kill me. _

_I'm horrified, but I'm alive._

_"What does it take?" the women with short red hair hisses, slamming her hands against a metal chair, "we were given orders to finish her so we can study her, and we can't even do that!"_

_I'm silent, though my mouth isn't gagged. Closing my eyes instead, I feel the hot tears stinging them as a blood-curling scream rips into the quiet air. They have speakers set up to were I can hear Jemstone and Summer being tortured in the same ways they are trying to torure me, but they are not immune. The scream quiets into racking sobs; my heart shatters again. Curling my fingers into fists, I allow myself to do the same. _

_"Shut up!" the lady with her brown hair in a bun barks, but I'm beyond listening. _

_"Just let them go!" I wail, "I'll die if it means you'll let them go!"_

_'But that is the thing, my dear," an old-set, leathery voice purrs from the speakers, sending shivers across my being, "you can not die, and your friends are...expendable."_

_"They are not expendable!" rage burns from my chest and courses through my viens, "LET THEM GO!" _

_Another scream answers me in return, causing to crumple in sobs. Clenching my fists, I begin struggling all that harder against my constraints, desperate to free myself. Narrowing my teary eyes in concentration, I give a violent jerk, sending the chair out from under me. My face connects with the floor and I'm tumped over, but I heard a small rip. Snarling as the women trying to grab me, I jerk out my arms. _

_The chair goes flying away, along with my constaints. _

_Blindly scrambling to my feet, I take off in the direction of the echoing screams. They'd silenced, which had happened before, but there was no sobbing now. My footsteps echo heavily as I tear the tiled hallways, all the endless twists and turns on light blue floors and emotionless blank walls. As I'm rushing faster than the humans can keep up, things begin mushing together in my mind. All of my surrondings are exactly the same, neverending and beginning to spin. Finally, it occurs to meet there is a dim spot of gray in the next wall I run into. _

A doorknob.

_Practically, I rip it off, almost taking the door off it's hinges with strength I didn't know I possesed. The man with the leathery voice is on the ground, slumped into the fetal positon. The pounding footsteps of the humans behind me cease aruptly, their bodies frozem behind me._

_"He's dead..." one of the women whispers. _

_Jemstone is slumping back as well, head lolled to one side and blood trailing down her face. I'm at her side instantly, yanking away her own contraints and gripping her shoulders. Her face is relaxed, unmoving as I shake her desperately. _

_"No..." I whisper hoarsely, tears forming in my eyes again as my knees cave. _

_For a long time, I just hold her lifeless form, crying uncontrolably but silenced. Perhaps the humans were pitying me, because they never disturbed me as they took their own kind out of the room. Through my racking sobs, I heard that they'd both been electrocuted at full power. He was meaning to kill her and murdered himself on accident, it appeared. _

_I wished that I could kill him myself, instead._

_After some time, her body turned to ashes in my hands. They laid against the pale blue ground, matching the shape of the symbol burned into my leg. She never told me why that burn was there, or that she would die for me. _

_But she did. _

_I gather the ashes in my pockets with trembling fingers, then see something in the corner of the almost empty room. It was a chest she'd never let me near; I pick it up and dart down the hall again. Nobody comes after me; I assumed the man who died was pretty important. After a while of stumbling and probably turning in circles, I finally run into her. _

_"Five," Summer breathes, relief clear on her now scarred face, ".thank goodness you're alive!" _

_"Jemstone isn't," my voice is tight, and grave._

_The look of relief on her face turns to horror and grief almost instantly. At that point, I felt horrible for her; she'd lost her mother. Even so, I'd lost my mother-actually, my entire family- as well and I knew it. _

_Gripping her head, I whisper, "Let's find a way out. Together." _

_Hoarsely, against the tears now rolling down her face, she whispered in return, "Together."_

* * *

It's at this point I wake up again.

That is possibly partially due to Nine shaking me.

"Finally," he says, sounding both annoyed and pleased, "I thought you were dead or something."

"I'm breathing, you idiot," I sigh, shaking my head and sitting up, finding myself against something warm with two arms wrapping around me securely, keeping me against their chest and body, "...Eight?"

"He's asleep," Nine just smirks, turning his attention back to the road with one hand still on the wheel, "I think everybody is, in fact."

"Then why did you wake me up?" I snip, looking through the darkness that fell over while I apparently slept through the rest of the day.

He smirks devilishfully a little wider, "Because I was bored, sweetheart. I thought you'd be a little more entertaining than Johnny Boy, anyway."

I roll my eyes. At this point, I'd grown to see that I would, in time, be able to fully like the Garde; they seemed alright. Nine, on the other hand, is just annoying. He is perverted and rude, and it doesn't look like he knows how to handle a situation seriously. He does things for his own amusement on his own terms; I'm already tired of it. I can only imagine how long it's taken for the rest of them to get used to it, or at least act like they have.

"So what do you want to talk about? If it's about you feeling me up tonight, I'm not interested," I glare through the darkness.

"_Actually_..." he reachs over suddenly, wiping my cheek, "I was wondering what you were crying about."

Slowly, I bring my hand to the one now on my cheek. I hadn't realized that I'd been crying, honestly, but it's not a pleasent surprise. Subconsciously, I wonder how he could tell when it's so dark, but most of me just wants to hide. He's already obviously stronger and more powerful than I; I don't need to be appear weaker to him than I more than likely already do.

"I'm not crying," I shake my head, "I'm just a little hot."

"In the winter? Right," even through the black, I see him roll his eyes, "it can't be that bad."

Sighing, I turn my head the other way, "Just remembering stuff."

He's quiet for a minute; good. But just about the time I'm dozing off again, he, (of course,) pipes up again, "That sucks. Anyway...are you...alright?"

"...Not really, but it's fine."

At least I'm being honest with him, right?

* * *

**_Eight _**

Five and Nine are talking about something; I can hardly make it through my sleepy daze. Someone takes my hand, someone who can I only assume can make out their whispers words. Their hand is slim and slightly sweaty; it must be Marina. Gently, I squeeze it in return; hers flinches in surprise.

"You're awake?" she mutters, sounding half asleep herself.

"Yeah," I yawn, shifting and allowing Five's body to readjust in my lap.

I can three sets of eyes on me now: Nine, Marina, and Five. I just shift, resting my cheek to the seat. My cheeks are glowing pink right now, but I can only hope they don't see it. Eventually, their eyes shift away.

Marina doesn't let go of my hand, though.


	15. Are you okay?

The Hunt of Five 14

_**Author Note:**_ They have out the official book description for The Fall of Five! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! :D :D :D.

Enjoy this story in the meantime for our long wait for it, and our not-as-long wait for The Last Days of Lorien on April 9th...ahem...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. ;) :D :).

* * *

_**Michele's P.O.V. **_

I miss Emily a whole, whole, _whole _lot right now.

Brandon's family has been super nice to me. His grandfather is kind of old, but he's got pretty gray-white hair and really nice laugh. He's always making me laugh; actually, he makes everybody laugh a whole bunch. Brandon's mother looks sad a lot, but when she's not sad, she's brushing my hair and playing princesses with me. When she cries out of nowhere, I give her a big hug and promise everything's okay until she stops.

His brothers are both older than us both, but I like them. The first one's name is Nick- he likes draw and take photos. One time, he even had me model for him while he took bunches of pictures in pretty clothes! The other brother's name is Liam, and he's really smart. He's always doing math and science, or looking for things in the ice. A couple of times I went with him, but it was _really _cold. I like it better inside.

Brandon is always really..._shy_, is what Nick told me, but I still like him.

All of them are great. They make me feel like I've got a real great big family, and like I belong somewhere. Jessie and Emily both made me feel like that, though, and I lost both of them. I know that Jessie is dead forever and forever- at least 'till I go to Heaven with her- but I'm scared for Emily. She's really tough, but really nice, too. She left without saying goodbye; I don't know if she still loves me or not.

I sure hope she does.

"Michele?" Brandon gets my attention in his always-soft voice, "are you ready for some lunch?"

"Oh...yes sir..." I nod, trying to forget about Emily for a little while as I get off of the bed they gave me when we decided I would be staying with them for a while.

"Come on...don't call me 'sir'..." his cheeks turn bright pink, "you make me feel old."

"Sorry, si-Brandon," I correct myself as quick as I can, taking his hand and letting him lead me into the dining room.

Everyone else already there, enjoying some soup. Smiling at the yummy scent in the air, I all but leap on my bowl of soup, drinking hungrily. Jessie used to say I was like a little piglet...

_No. I can't think about Jessie or Emily now, _I think, shaking my head to myself a little, _they'll be worried for you if they see you sad. _

Unfortunately, though, my slight head shake was noticed by Liam, "What's wrong, Michele?"

"Nothing's wrong," I smile, pretending to happy like I usually am.

I don't think he believes me- even I don't believe me. Even if he doesn't, he doesn't say anything else about it.

* * *

_**Seven/Marina's P.O.V. **_

I'm not exactly sure when he decided to do this, but Nine has, instead of taking us back to the other house, taken us to Chicago.

"Wow," I crane my neck to look up at the glorious, enormous John Hancock building that seems to tower of the entire city, "it sure is big. How did you get a place like this?"

"My Cepan," Nine replied, as if it's completely obvious; he strides inside, like he did every day. Honestly, he probably did for who knows how many years, because just by the way he looks fondly to this place, it feels like a home to him.

That's certainly more than I can for the orphanage, but both places are, at least, familiar.

The rest of us follow him inside, all of us carrying our own luggage. Ella walks beside me slightly awkwardly, carrying my Chest for me as Nine greets a bellhop. I overhear saying his uncle was on a long business trip, and that he was hear with classmates and his little sister for a school break. The bellhop agrees happily, calling him 'Stanley' and clasping his shoulder friendly; they obviously know each other.

"Follow me, _class_," he smirks a bit, punching in some numbers of the elevator that takes us to the 100th floor.

"Whoa..." Ella breathes out, "so...this is _all _yours?"

"This and more, _little sister_," he smirks, pointing up, "there's a 101st floor. Sandor got us set for life, man."

Smiling a little myself, I look to the others. Adam is staring at the ground, seemingly oblivious to the magnificent place around him as he stands stiffly beside Emily. Six looks pretty impressed, but also on guard. Just by the look on her face, I can tell she doesn't exactly like the idea of 'hiding in plain sight.' Sarah looks completely blown away; she's never seen anything like it, obviously. Then again, neither have I. It's absolutely gorgeous, and it just seems off that someone like _Nine _would love it here like he does. Ella, just like we two, looks surprised and amazed. John appears to like what he sees; he must have been here before, before we all met up at our first battle together.

Eight seems pretty blown away himself. He apparently lived in the mountains most of his life, though, just like I lived in Mexico, so it only makes sense. Gently, I take his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. I can almost swear he blushes a bit when I do; I smile shyly as my own cheeks burn.

"Not bad at all," Emily suddenly comments, taking a look around.

"No lie, Number Five," Nine chuckles, "pick a room, folks. I'll order us a pizza."

With that, he goes into a room nearby the main room the elevator entered into, shutting the door. Ella sets my Chest down carefully, looking at me expectantly. By the emotion in her eyes, she's waiting for me to move first so she can follow. I can only smile gently, bending over to kiss the top of her head.

"Why don't you go find a room of your own?" I advise carefully, "you went on a big adventure without me, after all. I'll be boring now!"

She giggles shyly, hugging me around the waist, "You couldn't be boring, Marina!"

None the less, she heads up the stairs, apparently curious about the 101th floor that was said to have not existed. Five hesitates for a minute visibly before turning to me; I blink, tilting my head curiously.

"Would you mind...if I got a room next to her?" she asks awkwardly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her blue jean jacket.

"Not at all, as long as I get the other one," I smile gently, winking a bit.

She just nods quietly, going up with her own things, Adam following mutely. I can't help but frown when she's gone, just a little. She definitely seems nice enough, but it's pretty apparent she doesn't trust any of us yet. I can understand that feeling myself. Despite that, she is already developing a protective, maternal instinct over Ella. It reminds me of what I'd done back at the orphanage, but a part of me is bitten with jealously. Ella is my partner; we're a team. If Emily was to win over her favor….it probably would be awkward between us two, for the best case of scenario.

"You look nervous, Marina," Eight comments as John leads Sarah toward the other end of the hallway, "what's on your mind?"

"Nothing much," I simply shake my head, sitting down cautiously on the couch.

Everything in this place looks so…expensive. I feel like I'll break even the air if I move wrong; it must have taken all of Sandor and Nine's Loric gems to get this place. For a moment, all of the cold, lonely nights Adelinena and I had to endure come back to me, sending shivers up and down my spine.

"Marina," Eight repeats my name, now sounding very concerned while he sits beside me, "seriously, what's going on?"

"I'm just….remembering some stuff."

Sighing, I close my eyes. Ever since I've come to Earth, my life has been nothing but pain/loss. I've lost my best friend, my Cepan, and I can only assume I'll lose someone else important before it's all over with. The orphanage was hell, they hurt Ella, and build a layer of anger and coldness toward humans around me. Those girls were horrible, the ladies over it were worse; years of resentment thrusts out of my soul.

A warm, secure arm wrapping around my shoulders surprises me, "It's okay….whatever it is."

When I reopen my eyes, I find Eight to be the one holding me close, his own eyes closed now. Gray rings of exhaustion and stress stick out on his whitening face; he looks like he hasn't slept in ages. My clouded heart breaks a bit as he holds me tightly, though he's exhausted.

Its then I feel truly selfish.

Carefully, I wrap one of my own arms around him, supporting his weight as I stand us up. He moves clumsily with me as I find an empty room, laying him down on the cushiony, soft, silk covers before covering him up. For a moment, his brilliantly green eyes flutter open. His orbs are dark and sleepy; I gently kiss shut his eyelids.

As I adjust the covers over him, I notice the blushing tint on his cheeks. Chuckling to myself, feeling just as shy, I crawl in with him, resting my head carefully on his chest. I half expect him to push me away, but instead, he just brings me closer.

Closing my own eyes sleepily, I smile again.

_**Five's P.O.V. **_

I stare at my reflection in the full-length body mirror I find in the room I ended up choosing from where Ella was settling in.

I'm not sure what Nine finds so attractive about it, anyway. Just like any teenager, I've got some acne bumps showing up on my chin and nose, and my curves are small, mainly covered by my body. My face is too pale, split ends are on my dark-dyed hair, and I feel a little pudgy. I'm not very pretty, anyway; he's just being a jerk.

Either that, or he's blind.

"Hey….Emily…" Adam is suddenly back from the room he choose across from mine, standing in my doorway, "um….what are we going to do?"

Groaning a bit to myself, I plop down onto my new bed, "I don't know, Adam. I really don't know."

Cautiously, he walks over, sitting beside me awkwardly. He looks flustered, but there's worry etched in his dark eyes. Something is definitely on his mind; I raise an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?" I ask, sharper than originally intended for my own worry.

He jumps instantly, shrinking back slightly and murmuring, "I can't find One. It's like she….disappeared."

My eyes narrow from concern/confusion, "Has this ever happened before?"

"No…." he says sadly, his eyes brimming with tears, "Five….I think she might be dying forever."

For a minute, all I can do is sit there. He's got a good heart and a pretty pure soul, and he obviously has fallen in love with her. Gently, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze.

Silently, the Mog boy cries into my shoulder.

And just as silently, I never acknowledge once Nine watching from the doorway.

* * *

_**Author Note: **_Since "The Search for Sam" screwed over this story just a little as far as Adam goes….there it was. :P. The next chapter will probably be better; I'm tired and it's getting late over here! (Well, by the time I post this, it won't be, but for now it is.)

P.S. Please vote on my newest poll on my profile!

And don't forget _**suggestions**_! I hope you all liked the little Seven/Eight scene!

And…..I love you all! :D :D :D


	16. How do we trust that?

The Hunt of Five 15

**_Nine's P.O.V._**

Man, it's _good_ to be home.

I'm sprawled out on my bed, not opening my eyes. After watching Five and the Mog boy get all lovey, I decided to beat it. Now I'm just chilling, enjoying the fresh night air from the open window. Sure, there's pollution, but that's beside the point. Point is, I've got the _life _right now.

Just about the time I'm about to catch some more sleep, there's a knock at my door. Rolling over reluctantly, I take a glance at the time: **1:24. **

_Someone better be dying..._I think bitterly, stretching out and flipping open the door.

A small form I reconize as Ella is standing there, clutching something to her chest. Through the pale moonlight coming in through the window, I notice her eyes are wide and full of fear. Judging by her tense body and sniffling, I guess she had another nightmare or memory or something like that. She opens her mouth to explain, but I just put my hand over it. In one easy motion, I scoop her up in one arm, toting her back to my bed.

"Stop crying," I squeeze her shoulders, muttering in her ear and resting my head on her stomach, "goodnight, pipsqueak."

"...Thank you."

* * *

**_*Next morning*_**

* * *

**_John's P.O.V. _**

When a wieght suddenly pounces on me, I jolt away instantly, jerking out my legs and arms for pure instinct.

"Oops!" Sarah sounds surprised and embarrassed as she rolls off of me, already dressed in an old blue t-shirt and black sweats, "sorry, John...I forgot!"

I just shake my head, smiling sleepily. She is, as usual, absolutely gorgeous; It's like I fall for her all over again every time I take a look at her. If I hadn't had to go through so much with Nine to get her back...actually, I still kind of can't believe she's all mine. Her loyality goes far- almost too far. After this war is over...I'll have to take her with me, and Sam, if we can find him.

No, _when_ wefind him.

"We should go jogging," she suggests, pulling her beautifully blonde hair in a high-set ponytail and kissing my cheek.

"Jogging?" I make a face, feeling stiff from the long carrides these past couple of days, "what if I don't wanna?"

Giggling, she jumps beside me on the bed. I've barely had any time to react at all before she's ontop of me again, stradling my hips now. Reaching down, she begins tickling my ribs, causing me to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Smiling a little wider as my cheeks heat up, she begins tickling a little faster, sliding her hands under my shirt to get at my bare skin.

"Ahhh!" I protest playfully, reaching up to push her off gently.

"Nope!" she sing-songs merrily, moving her fingers under my arms and causing me to jerk them down, "aw, John, you're cute!"

Not being able to hold it in once she begins scribbling her nails lightly over my stomach, I begin laughing loudly, finally managing to grab her own shoulders. She gives a small shriek, followed by a series of furious giggles as I pull her beside me, holding her arms to her sides in my tight embrace. At first, she squirms, but quickly settles for her head on my chest.

_This is how it should be, _I think contently.

"But we should go jogging," she mumurs after a minute, leaning over to playfully bite one of my hands.

Releasing, I give her a pathetic face before swinging my legs off the side of the bed. It's important to stay in shape after all, and I'll be with one of the most beautiful girls I've ever had the privledge of knowing, anyway. I could easily pull ahead of her, of course, but she won't leave me in the dust like Six, at least. Once I'm changed into some gray sweats and an old white t-shirt, I take her hand in my own and head into the main room. Nine is sitting on the couch, cross-legged and looking half asleep. Ella, Marina, and Emily are all in the kitchen, cooking what smells like pancakes. Eight and Adamus have not appeared to have made presense yet; Six is watching the others girls, sitting on a stool at the counter.

"Morning," I greet, lifting my arms to stretch.

"Good morning, John," Ella chirps cheerily, holding out a plate for Marina, who just lifted a pancake off the skillet, "good morning, Sarah. Did you guys sleep good last night?"

I blink and nod. I've honestly got no idea how she could be so bubbly this early in the morning, but it apparently works for her. In response to Ella's cheerful words, Sarah smiles, walking over to give her a kiss on the top of her head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Five and Marina both tense for a half a second. I have to raise my eyebrow at that as I make my way over to Nine. Picking up one of the fancy, fluffy red throwpillows, I sock him in the top of the head.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," I smirk; if he dishes it out, he should be able to take it.

"Shoudn't you being waiting on _Saraahhhh _hand and foot?" he grumbles in response, taking said pillow and shoving it over his face.

Despite my inward protests, my cheeks grow a bit more heated at his comment, "I don't wait on her hand and foot."

"The way you obsess over her, you may as well!" he retorts smartly into the pillow cloth.

From the kitchen, Sarah is blushing herself. Trying to shrug it off, I walk over to the girls, taking her hand protectively and sitting at the counter beside her. Ella just smiles at us, setting a couple of plates with pancakes in front of us. Marina chuckles herself as she carries a plate over to Nine, who all too eagerly accepts it.

"You act like you're underfed," Five rolls her eyes, sitting at the table alone.

Giggling, Ella sits beside her, who is followed by Marina. Once again, I have to raise my eyebrow at that. As far as I can tll, both of them are kind of envious of each other to get...an eleven-year-old's attention. Don't get me wrong, I know Ella's going to be a really strong Garde, and she's already very important in our fight against the Mogodorians. She gives another soilder, and another person to help us win this fight.

She's Loric; she part of us.

But she _is _eleven, so she'll have to get stronger, just like rest of us. Unless she's hiding something, (which I seriously doubt,) she loves us all the same. Both of them shouldn't have to fight for her attention. But it's there little fight, so I'll leave it be. I suppose that as long it doesn't hurt anybody, it'll just come with getting used to Number Five and all of us finally being reunited.

"Come on, John. Hurry up!" Sarah urges from beside me. Looking down, I see that she's halfway done with her plate, and I haven't any touched mine.

"Oops," I smile bashfully; I'm rewarded with a thump in the back of the head from Six, "ow!"

"Get your head out of the clouds, Mr. Smith," she teases, smirking good naturedly as she turns back to her own breakfast.

I roll my eyes. Even if I _am _kind of in love with her just like I am with Sarah, she's still annoying sometimes, making her come across as more of a sister than a lover. She'd probably never like me back, anyway, not like that. Kind of like, she's born to be a fighter. She is a soilder, one of the most powerful, countering with Nine.

Maybe they'd be a good couple, if they didn't murder each other.

* * *

_**Adam's P.O.V.** _

When I run into Eight in the hallway on my way to the main room, I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Adamus?" he recoils a bit himself, shifting his shoulders into a slightly defensive stance, "what a coincidence."

"Oops...I mean...that it is," I stutter lamely, averting my gaze as quickly as possible while shoving my hands into my pockets, studying the imprints designed into the carpet fabric.

Both of us stand there in awkward suspense. Nervously, I shift my weight, wishing that One would show up once again. She has appeared to have disappeared totally by the point, which, if nothing else, crushes my heart. In the time I'd known her, I'd developed quite the crush on her, even if she was deceased. Even if she was really gone, I felt more...empowered, as if I'd gotten a health surge overnight.

Then again, it could always be because Five actually comforted me last night. That's certainly progress from where we were, after all.

"So...you're a Mogodorian traitor," Eight states directly, forcing my gaze to his by grabbing my hair and pulling up- not hard, but hard enough.

Wincing slightly, I agree quietly, "Yes."

"How do we know we can trust you?" he presses forward, his looking mainly indifferent but being borderlined with curiousity.

"Because...I killed one of my own. One that was said to have been my brother," I reply quietly, not quite meeting his gaze for the traces of grief it left in my heart, "besides...would I have taken care of Number Five, one of your own, until this point?"

_It could always be a trap_, his expression points out, but he doesn't say anything else.

* * *

**_Sarah's P.O.V. _**

Jogging with John is more fun than I'd hoped, especially since he's a little out of shape right now.

"Come on, slowpoke!" I giggle loudly, turning around halfway on my heels and allowing my arms to swing with my body a little, "keep up!"

"You're the one made me eat five pancakes!" he half whines, pausing to begin peeling off his shirt; he's sweating, even against the bitter Chicago wind. Even if he is hot, (both chemically and physically,) he might get sick with the combination of freezing and burning.

"Whoa," I raise up my hands a bit, jogging to him and placing my hands on top of his, "don't take that off yet, Big Boy. Let's just take a break for you to cool down, alright?"

"Fine..." he puffed, plopping beside me. He catches his breath quickly, but allows his head to flop over onto my shoulder.

"Come on, Johnny Boy!" Nine's familiar deep, lined with a raspy/husky tone voice suddenly called out from nearby; I realize now he was watching us, "get your head in the game! Move it or lose and all that!"

I have to roll my eyes. I have to silently agree with John needing to be more in shape, but I guess I can't really say much after the encounter with Setrakus Ra. By the look on Nine's face, he's got a plan already formulated.

"So, Johnny..." he smirks, "did I ever introduce you to the Lecture Hall?"


	17. Training

The Hunt of Five 15

**_Ella's P.O.V. _**

The Lecture Hall is so big and bright, I can practically feel the power it must hold.

A cockpit-looking thing sits on the far end, above what could be something like the line of fire. It's white and padded on the walls in here, but it's really big. It's like a classroom combined with a crazy-person room; just perfect for Nine. Even so, I can't help but feel a little intimidated by the largeness of it all. By the look in Nine's eyes, though, he knows this place well. Smirking, he began walking casually up one of the walls, folded his hands a bit behind his back.

"Welcome, students," he declared, his voice echoing, "to the Lecture Hall."

John rolls his eyes beside me. By the look on his face, he doesn't really want to be here in the first place. Six is watching Nine intently, her muscles tense in preparation of some kind of trick. Marina looks neutrual as she stands a little closer to Eight than she does to me, and Sarah is wide-eyed and curious. Five is standing with her arms crossed, her face blank but her eyes watching Nine's every movement. Even Adamus is here, timidly and awkwardly standing at Five's side.

"Perk up," Nine smirks, turning to face us all and drooping from the wall easily, "it's not like I'll kill you. In fact, I'll even go _easy _on you."

Those were obviously not the words Six was looking for, "Shut up and cut the bullshit. What are we supposed to be doing in here?"

"This is the training room," he continues, just as obviously not fazed by her harsh words, "I'll be controlling what comes at all of you. For right now, we'll focus on one-on-one sessions."

I have to admit, I'm pretty impressed by Nine's ability to go from sarcastic to serious so quickly. His face is borderline solemn, as if this room brings back some unsettling memories. Even so, his eyes sparkle a little behind his casual, ever-present smirk. Whatever is going inside of his head, it's definately going to end in something..._interesting _for the rest of us. After all, we don't really know anything about this place. Even John, who stayed in this penthouse briefly before with him, didn't know about this secret training room.

"So," Nine's smirk only widens as he towers over all of us, "who's first?"

* * *

**_Six's P.O.V. _**

A few minutes later, the others are cleared out and it's just Nine and I in this Lecture Hall. Katarina always said I shouldn't ever be cocky, no matter how strong I got, but I'm not going to be showed up by someone like Number Nine. He could be a pushover; he only makes me mad half the time. Now he's inside a cockpit, sitting in front of a fancy-appearing control panel. The look on his face is michevous, but lined with confusion. As he fumbles for a few more minutes, I decide this is his first time 'behind the wheel.' His Cepan must have designed the place and only showed it to him a few times, or at the very least never showed him to run it alone. Maybe that should intimate me, since I'm the one he'll be firing things at, but it doesn't.

It can't be worse than a Mogodorian torturing your Cepan until she died in agony in front of your eyes.

He finally gives up on figuring all of the options out and slams his fist down on a few buttons. Instantly, an entire wall's length of spinning razor-types fire out from the wall, directly toward the my back. Using my telekinesis, I easily dodge them, but this room was built to anticipate it. Another row fires out at me just as the momentum of the previous is slowed, throwing me off only half a beat. Twisting around to face them head-on, I use half of my telekinetic powers to bring down one half while simply dodging the rest. More spikes follow in time, but this time, I'm prepared to dodge.

As what appears to be the last row of this attack fires out, I'm comfortably avoiding them. It's repeitive; it's like this glich was programmed to _be _the weak point. As I'm turning to face Nine once more, though, something at the wieght of grown Mogodorian knocks me into the oppsoite wall. My shoulders throbs angerily from the wieght cracking against the bones as my vision is temperaily blurred. As I'm rallying, a large drone of scrap metal towers over me. The 'head' looks like a broken mointer screen, with the body to be made of a maze of wires that are sparking slightly.

Even if it was made with a few screws, it has to be the thing that knocked me away like I was rag doll.

Rolling onto my side, I barely manage to avoid a sharp piece of metal skewering me. It's thick and heavy, meaning it was probably would I felt when it collided with me. The wheels of the drone whirl furiously to spin itself around while I regain footing behind it. Shifting to the side with the shoulder that it the wall, I deliver a roundhouse kick to its 'back'. This discoordinates it and the wieght, sending it crashing. Sweat dampens my back as I watch it sputter to death, along with something sticky.

_Nine, I'll kill you. _

Upon turning in his direction once more, I see he's grinning broadly. His fingers waver over the keys and levers of the control panel, taunting me fully. Scowling darkly in his direction, I scoop up the bent metal of the dormaint drone's arm, aiming it in his direction. He catches on I'm not bluffing; it angers him. Rising sharply, he enters the main room, standing in front of the control panel and it's 'protective' barrier.

"Don't touch the panel," he snarls lowly under his breathe, "you don't know how long it took to fix it again."

I stare mutely at him for a while before half demanding, "What's that supposed to me?"

"I recked this place before Sandor and I were caught," he replied sharply, marching over and yanking free my potiental weapon, letting it fly into another wall, "I fixed it for today. And I'm not going to go through all that again, got it, Princess?"

His hieght above me doesn't intimate me. What does, however, is the fire ingniting in his dark eyes. We're about at the same level as far as training and skill in fighting, but we'd destroy so much if we fought now. It's beter just to let him relax and to cool his head. Instead of responding verbally, I scoop up the piece of metal, dropping it with the broken drone. Staying mute, I walk out of the Lecture Hall into the others' collective impatient stare.

"How did it go?" John is the first to speak.

"Fine," I grunt, doing my best to ignore the searing pain going through both of my sweating, bloody shoulders, "Ella, you stay out of there."

Her eyes widen along with Marina's as they become collectively aware of my wounds. Walking behind me, Marina puts her hands over the sources of blood. They vibrate slightly, sending numby, chilling feelings across my being, before melting to normal condition. Even the normal cramps along my back and shoulders seem to be soothed of the usual stiffening, much to my pleasure.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Why can't I go in there?" Ella looks fearful as she inquires this, her wide brown eyes slightly sad but full of worry.

"It's dangerous," I reply steadily, turning away from having to face her innocent, pure gaze.

_Dangerous, just like Nine. _

* * *

**_Eight's P.O.V. _**

If you called running up and down mountains and lifting heavy things training, I've been training for most of my years alone on the Mountains. If you don't, it's been a long time. I've never really experienced like what Nine is about to throw at me, at least.

By the look in his michevously dark eyes, I think he knows that.

Before I can even consider questioning his knowledge, however, the floor begins vibrating. The tile feels considerably warmer than when I first stepped on against my bare feet, and only seems to be growing in temperature. Just as I'm thinking I should have put on shoes like the others, heat blasts in front of my face. As I stumble backwards blindly, an even more intense heat blasts behind me in an echoing roar, searing my shirt. Blindly, I stumble forward, then nearly fall onto my side. Shocks of heat beat across my skin as my heart thuds heavily inside of my ribcage as I'm regaining footing.

Throwing a glance over at Nine, I find him slowly smirking over a small band of levers he apparetnly just discovered on his control panel. He glances up, smirking, "Fire floor. You gotta admit, Sandor had some interesting tricks up his sleeves."

Just about the time I've decided Sandor was his Cepan, another blast of fire erupts near my right side. Moving quickly, I swing myself around, dashing in the opposite direction. The floor is practically cooking beneath my soles, which doesn't make this experience any more enjoyable. From where I am now, I notice another upshoot of fire nearby where I was standing moments ago. It comes out of the ground in what appears to be a geyser. Steam curls off of the jagged, straight flames, vanishing into the air as soon as the fire retracted into his place in the ground.

Though cautiously, I approach the source. Now that I look closer, I notice there's a tiny opening built into the tiling. It's discrete enough to not be seen or felt by a casual passer, the opening having jags hanging down from the top to carve the shape of the flames. Turning, I notice there are several of these opening along the floor, placed far enough apart to not cluster but close enough to be in stepping or turning distance.

_Clever. Sandor must have been a techy. _

As I'm straightening myself to inspect for other openings, flames erupt in my face. On impact, I don't feel anything. But as hazy colors of red and orange cover my vision, the heat shoots through my facial muscles. Blinded, I fall to my back, clawing desperately. From what isn't roaring in my ear, I hear a surprised sound coming from the far left.

_Satisfied now, Nine? _

Darkness creps in with the blazing colors. Something warm but wet splatters onto my face just the blackness overcomes me.

* * *

When the black retreats, I find my sight blurred and slightly dried. My body, on the other hand, is soaked and slightly chilled.

The first face I find through my frantic blinking is Marina's. Her eyebrows are full of worry, her pretty brown orbs reflecting the same with anger. My attempt to consol her comes out in an incorherant moan. At the sound, her hand finds my cheek, resting against it mindfully. Her face is filled with thought with a majority of relief mixed in, which becomes more clear as I blink. Upon becoming more fully aware of my surrondings, I find that cold, wet drops of water are sprinkling steadily across my body and face, and that Marina and I are not alone. The smell of smoke and cooked flesh lingers in the air, even more so I sit up.

"Go slow," Marina urges, "you were pretty burnt up."

_Burnt up. Good grief, don't tell me Nine tried to barbeque me..._

"What happened?" I croak, my voice sounded more worn away than I feel...but not by much.

"Nine's fire trap got a little out of hand," Six replied solemnly, sounding very unamused as she inspects a fire opening, "according to him, you were "inspecting your surrondings when you decided to get a tan.""

Her tone grows more irrtiable as she quotes Nine's explanation on what happens; I sigh. He more than likely didn't try to good me medium well on purpose, but all the same, he needs to be more careful. His reckless nature is growing more annoying but the day, and it may or may not result in me turning into a cooked steak in the future. Marina reaches for one of my hands now, her face sympathtic. Accepting her kind geusture, I notice Nine and Five arguing behind the glass covering the control panel.

With another sigh, I glance over at Ella, who is leaned over another opening with both John and Adamus. One of John's arms is resting gently around Ella's waist, poistioned as if to pull her out of the way if something happened. Adamus is postioned toward her, since she's in the center of both of them; from my angle, I see his eyes flickering nervously over to her. Even though I almost became the Boy on Fire, I have to smile at the cuteness of it, then smirk at the idea that arises.

Soundlessly, I pad over behind all three of them. They're so engrossed in what they're doing they don't expect me to push both John and Adamus forward, making all three of them fall forward.

"Boo!" I yell, laughing good-naturedly as they lose balance.

"Eight!" Ella whines, followed by a string of playful giggles as Adamus mumbles something into the dormiant tiling.

"Seriously, man?" John gripes while Sarah, who was apparently watching Nine and Five from a distance, hurries to help them all back to their feet.

"Seriously," I reply with a half-bashful smirk, reaching down and scooping Ella up, spinning her around once to increase the volumes of her giggling with sucess, "I think somebody tipped over your giggle box, kid!"

She smiles up at me, her face a little shy as she blushes pink. Sarah helps John and Adamus in the meantime as Marina comes over to Ella and I, taking her out of my arms with a giggle of her own.

"Come on, it's getting late," she tells us gently while balancing Ella back on her feet, "what do you say we go cook something for diner?"

"I can help?" our eleven-year-old inquires hopefully, big brown eyes shining with hope.

In unsion, Marina and I chorus, "Of course."

As we three begin walking out of the Lecture Hall, I can't help but blush a little. Living in the mountains for several years with total isolation meant I didn't have a lot of experience with girls, which results in my awkwardness and slighty modestity. Sure, I acted completely confident when I first met everybody, but I guess that was before I got to know them all. Now I feel like I have to be more careful, unless I wanted to screw up completely with Marina. As we're going for the kitchen, I find that burns on my face and body are absent- Marina must have used her healing Legacy on me.

Leaning over to her face slowly as Ella bounces ahead of us, I steal a quick peck on her check, "Thanks."

* * *

**_Nine's P. O. V. _**

From the minute she tried to lecture me about how I work _my _Cepan's Lecture Hall, Five was in for a fight.

"You shouldn't have been so reckless!" she scolded me, "you could've killed Number Eight! And then where would we be?!"

"I'm the one in control, and I know what I'm doing!" I argue sharply, even if we both know that me having a clue on what I'm doing is a lie.

"You're one of the most unempathetic people I have ever encountered!" her voice was steadily growing louder, tightening with anger and the probably urge to hit me in the face.

"Oh well," I just smirk a little wider, "if you're so pissed about it, then you should go ahead and punch me."

Needless to say, I'm not that surprised when she does.


	18. Ability

The Hunt of Five 18

**_Author Note: _**Sorry it took a minute to update guys! My laptop is having issues, so I'm doing is from my iPad and other computers. I, therefore, can not at the moment work at night as much. However, I shall get my baby fixed! :P

Sorry if you catch errors; I'm trying, guys! Love you all!

* * *

**_Five's P.O.V. _**

My knuckles crack when they connect with Nine's nose.

When I reclaim my fist, he looks half amused. I would've thought since he told me to never hit him again he'd be angry, but apparently he was anticipating it. In the blink of the eye, however, he's got my pinned to the wall. His breath is hot as he presses his face to mine, his smirk widening further.

"You've got guts, Number Five," his tone of voice is challenging and taunting, "but can you back up your talk?"

In response, I take another swing at his face. This time, however, he fully anticipated such, and catches it. With another cocky smirk, he jerks my arm down, taking my upper body with it. Grunting, I twist in a wild attempt at catchy myself; my arm screams. His laughter echoes loudly in my ear as he hold fails, sending me crashing to the tile.

Anger burns in the pit of my gut. I've had enough of his bull crap; he acts like our entire mission is nothing but a little game to amuse himself. If he's not willing to take who we are more seriously, I'll just get him out of the way. He may be tall, muscular, and probably powerful, but I'm willing to try.

"_Promise me that you'll never give up, no matter how tough it gets._" Jem's voice echoes in my head as I scramble to my feet.

"_Promise!" _my younger voice crows in response as my fists clench now.

"Let's have a little _mona a mona," _Nine purrs calmly, not looking as would up as I am by far, "in the Lecture Hall, of course."

My response is a mute clench of my jaw. He's definitely mainly trying to get a rise out me; he doesn't deserve the satisfaction. His confident expression doesn't shift as he strides into the white section of the room with myself in follow. Once the door clicks shut behind us. Adam, Sarah. And John look up in alarm. Their faces are curious; O stare t them blankly, tightly.

"Alright, everybody out!" Nine announces, clapping his hands together once, "Five here has decided she wants to put me in my place or whatever."

My temper flares again, but force my face to stay neutral. (I got practice keeping a blank face when Jemstone was lecturing me; I am now a master.) John eyes us both, rising suspiciously and wrapping one protective arm around Sarah.

He kind of reminds me of Jem in the regard of him wanting to protect her from potential danger.

Adam, on the other hand, takes an opposite initiative. He's on his feet quickly, heading for the door. I'm not sure what happened to Six, Ella, Eight, and Marina, but as soon as everybody's out, Nine has a shift in attitude as quickly as a pregnant lady. His face grows more solemn with concentration; his eyes hold something I can't quite identify. It's almost like he's trying to contain himself from me, but not sexually. (For once.) Right now, the look on his face matches the expression I held after Summer and I got into a little wrestling fight. I'd stared into the bathroom mirror in all my shame, my face tight with borderline fear toward myself.

Even then I knew I could have hurt her worse than she could ever hurt me.

It sets me slightly on edge he's looking at me like that, but only a little. After all, he's pretty damn cocky from what I've seen. Trying to clear my head of that line of thinking, I fix my hard gaze on him. When I imagined reuniting with the Garde, I never thought I'd ever fight them. But if I don't...now I know that if I cower away, I'll be truly weak.

To be strong, first you have to be brave. And before you're brave, you have to get your heart crushed. Sometimes, you just have to distance yourself and put your defenses up from some people.

The more I'm around Nine, the more I figure he's one of them.

He moves faster than I thought he would. In a split second, he's shouldered me in the chest, sending me crashing to my back. My recovery time is just as fast, however; I front roll between his legs. When he swings one leg over me to turn, I grab his ankle, trusting it over my head sharply. He nearly falls forward, his reflexes catching him barely as he stumbles blindly. I take this time to get on my feet properly and tackle him from behind. In his stumble, though, he appears to have recovered. His back muscles tighten briefly in absorbance of my body blow before his hip bone catches my waistline sharply.

Pain shoots through my nerves on contact. My own reflexes are still in tact, none the less; I roll off to my right foot. Even though it's unbalanced for a split few second, I manage to land a sharp kick to his jawline while he's attempting to straighten himself. With a grunt, he jerks away while I regain balance. For at least ten precious seconds, we stay perfectly still, our hearts racing even faster than normal and our breathing growing less shallow.

This time, I get the first attack in with a roundhouse kick to his ribs.

With a grunt, he jerks backwards sharply, While I'm still twisted slightly from the kick, he grabs my shoulder. His nails dig and leave slight imprints into my skin as I'm flung into a wall. Just to throw him off, I allow myself to pass right through. Smirking slightly at my trick, I begin to pass through the plaster as if it was water, making my way accross the length of the wals until I get the one that appears to be the back. From where I am, I make out a dim circle of light.

My smirk grows wider.

In hardly any time at all, I've wriggled my body up. The space in between the walls is quite small, but my figure, (and chest,) manage from the practice of hiding from Mogs in odd places. Once I'm face-level with the light, I poke my head through the vent cautiously. Nine is looking around cautiously, body tensed. From where I'm practically dangling, I can see sweat sticking his red shirt to his back. Grining evilly at his obvious utter confusion, I whistle loudly just before launching myself at him.

The wind is knocked out of both of us before my body connects with his chest.

From the ground, I can feel him gasping sharply. His anticipation failed despite his alertness; I can't imagine he's amused. But for a moment, I have to grin a bit as I gasp myself from the impact. For once, I'm the one who had the upper hand on _him_.

When he reacts, it's less than pleasent. Sharply, he hooks an arm around my neck, pinning my violently to the floor. My esophogus closed as his elbow muscles clench around me, leaving me to kick helplessly. Flipping his sweaty black hair out of his red face, he leans in close, letting our noses connect slightly. The rage in his eyes in apparent, but he's smirking; he knows he's won in the end.

"I told you to never hit me again."

When the hold on his throat releases, he leaves me gasping on the ground.

* * *

_**Seven's P. O. V. **_

I giggle loudly when Eight smears some brownie batter on my nose- too loudly.

My cheeks instantly flush as he turns away with a smirk. By the look on his pink face, he's just as nervous as I am. At least that's the theory; I doubt it. After all, he's always come across as confident to me. For him to shy in front of me is basically impossible in my frame of my mind. Him being shy or insecure would be like Six doing as such- pretty impossible. That doesn't explain the blush on his cheeks, though, if my doubts are accurate. Then again, they might not be.

"Earth to Marina...?"

_Oh gosh, he was talking to me. _

"Sorry," I blink quickly, shaking my head slightly, "what was that?"

"I asked if you wanted to lick the other beater," he replies with a little smirk, waving it in front of my face, "before Ella gets a hold of it."

From behind the counter, Ella gives us a bashful smile. Her face is covered with chocolate, smeared happily across her nose, cheeks, and chin, her brown eyes shining happily. Giggling at the comment, she licks her beater, showing off her chocolate covered little tongue. The sight of her being so messy and happy makes me giggle while I accept the beater, giving it a taste.

"Yum," I smile, standing on my toes briefly and popping Eight in the nose lightly with the other side of the still-coated beater, "you should try some."

Laughing himself, he reaches up his tongue, like he's going to lick the tip of his nose, "Aww, it doesn't reach."

Ella and I both giggle loudly at that, which seems to encourage him more. Bending down to my hieght, he pushes his nose against mine, whispering sweetly, "Can you reach it with your tongue?"

Grinning modestly, I giggle, "I'm not licking your nose."

"What about it?" he taunts, wrinkling it and tilting back his head.

"You're so gross!" Ella laughs from her seat across from us while I avert my gaze; he laughs, the smirk in his voice.

"I'll get you for that!" he grins at her as I peek back up, running over in a split second and grabbing her around her waist gently; she squeals playfully.

Grinning wider, he lifts her over his head with ease, sitting her on his shoulders. She squeals with wild giggles, her small chocolate-coated hands tangling with a grip on his curls. When he moves his head once she's got a hold on it, he squeaks slightly in alarm; I giggle harder. Spinning quickly on his heels in comply, Eight dips backwards, releasing Ella's light grip instantly. Moving gracefully as both of our jaws drop for the moments she's freefalling, he catches her in one arm, making a 360 degree turn in the end.

"Wow, that was so fast!" Ella squeals in alarm/joy.

"That it was," he smirks confidently while I give him a quick applause.

"Nice catch, _Joseph_," I smile devilishly, standing on my toes again and kissing his nose to rid of the batter, "now get the brownies out of the oven before John has to use his Lumen to throw burning brownies out of the window."

* * *

**_Sarah's P. O. V. _**

"Oh my gosh..." Adam freezes while I rush to Emily's side.

She's breathing shallowly on the ground, only half conscious. My best guess is that Nine hurt her and left her; my fear of him is stronger than ever. None the less, I squat down, placing a hand over her heart. From many nights with my head on John's chest, the quick heartbeat doesn't faze me, but the wet spot over it does. Now that I look a little closer, she's got several nicks on her skin, like she squeezed through something sharp.

"Emily!" Adam finally gasps out, running to her other side at twice the speed I did, "Emily, wake up!"

She must be able to hear us, because she emits a reluctant groan in response. Chewing on my lower lip anxiously, I place one hand on her forehead while he slips his hands under her body. She's not especially heavy or light, but together Adam and I manage to get her off of the ground.

"Let's get her to her room," I suggest, keeping my eyes on her pale face.

"Right."

As we walk in the direction of her room, his fingers briefly brush with mine. I can only try to ignore the tingling waves of electricity I feel when he does.

* * *

_**Author Note:**_ Plot element! :O.

Hey, guys, thanks again for all the love and support! You guys keep me going! :D Oh, and can you check on out my new stories "Together Forever and Ever, But Only for Now" and "Hiding Growing Up"? It'd mean a lot to me! ^_^

Love you all! :D


	19. Endurance

The Hunt of Five 19

**_Adam's P. O. V. _**

One died in front of me, then died again within me. She was a true hero; she tried her hardest truly. She thrived within me and opened my eyes. She was the first of the nine young Garde. She died as a strong, female hero.

I don't want the same to happen to Emily/Number Five.

Sarah insisted she could alone, but I was just as stubborn to stay with her. It was a battle for One and even myself in itself to get Five to trust me; I won't betray that by not standing by her side. She even cared about me when Nine was throwing me around in the car; I've kind of fallen for her at this point. Even if she'd never go for me, I'll perserve her life until I lose my own. Maybe even past that point if it's possible.

"Do you think she'll be able to overcome this?" Sarah whispers from the other side of the bed.

"I'm sure," I whisper in assurance, though my voice is slightly raspy with previous tears I'd unleased in the bathroom solo, "I mean...she's so..._her." _

_"_That's true...but...what do we do about Nine?" she questions weakly.

My stomach hollows. Her face and tone couldn't be any more expressive of the fact she's petrified of him; niether can mine. _We _probably can't do anything about him. I've barely got any powers and she's a human, so it shouldn't be our buisness to get him under control. If anything, he'd just frighten off Sarah and creamate me.

I'm not interested in either.

"Dunno..." I reply weakly, "let's just tend to her. She won't do anything to us, you know."

Looking down, she just nods. When the door creaks open a few moments later, Number Seven- Marina- enters, along with Four- John- and little Number Ten, Ella. All of them look really concerned, though toward a different person each. While John touches Sarah's shoulder and Marina sits on Emily's side beside me, Ella looks into my eyes.

"Are you alright, Adamus?" she inquires sweetly.

My heart flutters; her eyes are wide, innocent, beautiful brown. Maybe it's because I'm about fourteen and she's about twelve; I guess that's normal enough. Blushing slightly, I nod in response. I was never very good with girls- one of my many un-skills. She just smiles kindly, sitting on the bed in front of me and near Five's sleeping form. Marina is bent over her, hands on her stomach and one on her neck. For a minute, I just watch as she seems to concentrate completely on pressing down her hands.

_What the heck is she doing?_

"She's healing her," Ella whispers as color begins to fill Five's cheeks, "it's a Legacy she has."

Nodding again, I watch with interest as something shifts under Marina's left hand. Cuts even begin to close more on Emily's arms while Marina trembles slightly herself. A couple of minutes later, both of their forms collaspe, looking worn but relieved. Immediatley, all us other four reach for our healer to be of some assistance/comfort, but she appears to be asleep. Both Ella and Sarah giggle a bit at that.

"I can go get Eight..." Sarah offers, rising.

"Maybe I should talk to Nine..." John sighs a bit himself, the look on his face proving he really doesn't want too.

"Actually..." Ella pipes up meekly, "John, can you help Marina, Emily, and Adamus get comfortable again? I kind of want to talk to Nine."

Both he and I both are hiestant to let her near him as he replies, "I don't think that's completely safe, Ella. You saw what he did to Emily, and she's got more training than you."

"Trust me," she just gives a knowing smile before scurrying out before either of us can grab her.

_**Ella's P. O. V. **_

I can't believe he would actually hurt Emily. I've always thought he was better than that, but he's just like he was when I first saw him. He's still Nine; big, scary, powerful Nine. He's pretty reckless and cocky; I think we're all more scared of him now than before. Even though I know I've got to be extremely careful around him now more than ever, I've got dim hope that I'll be able to break through to him- if not I, then maybe John. For someone who I know has serious trust issues, (and rightfully so,) he seems to trust us two more than he does the others.

Maybe I'm wrong again, but I've got to try.

Moving like a ghost, I peek cautiously into Nine's room- nothing. Several laps around both floors prove futile; he's gone. Just about the time I've made up my mind to tell the others I can't find him, it occurs to me there's one other place he could be. It's always been very windy in this state, and he always seemed to enjoy the feeling of any win. If there was any way he could achieve that feeling more, he'd definately do it. And what better place to get more wind than at the highest place he could find?

_The roof_.

Moving more quickly now, I slip into the elevator and press down the high-up red button with an **R **well-worn on it. Moments later, I'm hit with a tremendous amount of cold the second the doors slide open. Squinting against the anticipated wind, I peer across the roof as far as I can; sure enough, a shaded form sits slumped over the edge. Partially relieved and partially worried, I make my way over. As I near, I see that his normally shaggy black hair is completely tangled with traces of yanking, and his shirt is torn in several places. He's bruised up himself with dried blood clotting around his neck and shoulders.

For him, it's completely natural not to mention his own injuries.

"Nine," my voice doesn't appear to startle him, "are you alright?"

"Go away, kid," he grumbles out bitterly, not moving anything but his mouth.

His tone is filled with warning. Maybe I should take his advice and just leave him alone- but a large part of me doesn't want too. I mean, even if he is really scary, he's still got feelings too, right?

"Wait..." I say cautiously, "would be okay...if I just...just...sat with you? You'll hardly even know I'm here, I promise!"

"Just sitting?" he repeats, his echo a million miles away, "yeah, sure. Whatever."

Slowly, I take my place at his right side. Our legs hang off the the edge- Marina might have a heart attack if she saw me out here- but it's pretty peaceful. The city moves in little dots and flashing lights just under our feet, unaware of our presense or not minding it. The window wraps us in a freezing blanket, squealing out the sounds of breaks and yelling below. The serenity of this position honestly surprises me. It makes a lot more sense why Nine would like it up here if it's always like this.

"Do you hate me or something?" Nine snaps in an instant.

Looking over in alarm, I respond, "Of course not..why would you ever think that?"

"Well, I just practically _killed _Emily!" he snaps harder, yanking his fingers through his hair harshly. That's the first time I've heard him call her by her prefered alias; it's sweet and heartbreaking.

"No, you didn't. You hurt her body, but Marina has already healed her," with trembling fingers, I rest one hand on his shaking lower back, "you...you need to just breathe for me."

"And what would be the point in that?" he snaps in response, wiping back as his head as he gets to his feet too fast. His blazing eyes stare down the over one hundred story drop to the Chicago streets below; my heart beats hollow.

"I'm a monster," he growls under his breath, "some days I don't know why the hell I keep trying."

"Because you're the strongest..." my voice shakes without permision, "you're one of, if not the most, valuable tool we have against the Mogs. Without you...we'd never win the war. We'd never go home."

Exhaling loudly and sharply, he grunts, "Why should we go back? We're down three as it is. And you know what we're returning to? A hibernating planet with no soul left alive. There will be nothing but us."

"But it's up to us to make our race strong again," I walk over, gripping his clamped fists that shakes with witheld power under my weaker hold, "we have to start it again. We'll be the Elders. Lorien will rise again...and the Mogs will never be able to bother us again, because they'll all be dead. Especially Setrakus Ra."

"It's up to us to do it," his angry voice is filled with nothing, hollow just like I feel now, "and what if we don't? We're completely screwed over. Hate to break it to you, kid, but not all of us are going to make it to Lorien. Only the strong will surrvive, because we're all that's left. When we get back to our practically destroyed planet..._if _we get back...we're just going to have to deal with ourselves. There's no life up there, ya know...no animals...none of this. Just darkness."

As I stare at his tense form, I realize that he's right. Earth suddenly seems more appealing, but it isn't supposed to be our destiny. We surrvived for a reason. We were born for victory.

_Not all of us are going to make it to Lorien. _

Only the strong, he'd said. He's strong, and so are John, Eight, and Six. But what about Marina, Five, and I? As far as I know, those two aren't as trained or combat-ready as the others. I've barely got telekinsis myself, and I'm not strong. Since Adelina never trained Marina, niether is she, but at least she has her Legacies. Five is trained, but I'm not sure how much.

_What if...what if I don't make it back? _

I'd hate to die in the world. I have to avenge Papa somehow, and all of my people who died that night when I was only a few hours old. Papa always told me the other Garde were going to be ready to go back, too. And for as long as I'd known them, they'd all acted like it, especially Nine. But now he talks like he wants to just end the fight, or stay on Earth and forget it all, kind of like Adelina did.

"But we can be the light..." my tone is pleading, "please, Nine. We can't lose you, too."

He pauses his rigid breathing only briefly. His eyes still bore down to the unnoticing city below, fists shaking with anger. My hand slowly slides down his back, dropping helplessly to my side. What else could I possibly say or do? I can't control him if someone like Six can merely attempt to influence him. He's like a time tomb, as Papa might say; Easy to set off and hard to repair.

I wonder what could have made him like that.

"I've already lost my family and my Cepan to this damned war," he finally growls out, "and I'm tired of losing Loric."

_I've lost my Cepan, too...I know how much it hurts. _

I just can't find the courage to say the thought as he sighs deeply. Instead, I simply put my hand back on his back. Under my touch, his muscles relax only slightly. We maintain eye contact for a few long minutes before his gaze drops. His eyes appear tired, filled with stress and anxiety. The same expression filled Papa's eyes when he was really worried; I was used to it. Even though it may or may not be a bad idea, I decide to try doing what I did to Papa when he was like that.

Walking over with my head down, I wrap my arms around Nine's stomach area, my hands barely reaching all the way around. Even as I feel his eyes boring down on me, I continue the hug with a warm squeeze. His large, rough hands rest lightly on my back themselves, fingers pressing as lightly as they've ever. Reaching up hiestantly, I begin to rub his lower back until the tensing muscles are practically forced to relax. Moving backwards in slow, precise steps, I guide his midlly rigid body to a set of smokestacks, sitting him down slowly. His hands leave my own back as he slumps, looking weary past his age. When his stomach is more rasied than his back, I begin rubbing there, my touch barely feelable and careful of any bumps or scars I can see/feel through the fabric of his shirt. He lets out a slightly strained moan.

"You're alright, Nine," I whisper, my breath tickling his ear, "we're only going to win if we're all together. And now we are."

Pain is still present in his dark orbs, but his intensity has drained. His voice wieghed down with congestion, he basically whispers out, "Can you just...leave me alone for a little while longer? I'll come in soon..."

"Of course," I mummur back, reaching up to plant an affectionate kiss on his forehead, "f-feel better so-soon."

My tears finally dribble out as I make my way back toward the elevator. From the corner of my eye, I see Nine slumping over the edge of the building once more.

"Thanks, kid."

His words cause of a watery smile to appear on my face as I enter said elevator once more. Maybe, just maybe, he got what I was trying to say.

"Anytime, Nine."

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

When I wake up, I've got the biggest damn headache in all of Earth or Lorien.

"What the hell happened to me?" I groan out, even though I remember almost in full detail. I challenged Nine, battled it out, tried to launch a sneak attack, and ended up getting creamed.

_That jerk conquered me. _

Of all of the Mogs I've taken, I was rendered helpless by one of my fellow Garde. The Mogodorian leader, whoever he may be, will more than likely- no, I _know_- be more at least posess double the power Nine carries, if not more. If I can't take Number Nine, I'm useless in the fight for our planet. That means I've got to stronger and smarter in a matter of...of how long? Weeks? Days? Hours?

There's no breathe I can afford to waste anymore.

"Whoah..." Adam has been asleep, judging by the bleariness in his eyes as he stands up at my bedside, "Emily, you're awake. I was...I was getting worried."

"You were asleep," I state blandly; my guilt washes over when I see hurt flashing in his eyes, "...sorry. Were you really looking after me all of that time? Please tell me you weren't; you didn't have to."

"Well, you took a pretty damn good beating," he reasons only to himself, "I needed to make sure nothing happened. Marina healed you, too, and Sarah helped me carry you in. The really important thing now is that you're awake and alive, though...thank God for that."

"I guess."

Swinging my legs off the side of the bed heavily, I stumble to regain balance. My body feels numb as I stand on legs that are seemingly filled with lead- I can hardly take a step forward before I'm catching my fall. Adam's arms wrap around me for support and in a restrain; I just jerk free in the form of a twist. This time, I'm unable to brace for impact and come within an inch of knocking myself out on the edge of the chair he was apparently sitting in. His grip tightens when it finds my hips again.

"You're in no condition to look for a fight," his tone reprimends me; I'm not truly listening.

"I'm not looking for a fight," I grunt, gripping at his tightened finger desperately, "I'm looking to get stronger. I've got to train, don't you see?!"

"Not right now you don't!" he insists, grip failing to keep a restraint on my power-filled nails prying them away from my body, "you...you have to stay here and recovery, or make ammendments at the very least!"

"Right now, I don't care about any damned ammendments!" I shout, practically at the top of my lungs, "I've got to win this freaking fight one way or another, and I'm not going to do it _recovering_!"

"Then what about the other Garde?!" he demands, "you need them."

Jerking away his weaker hold at least, I sputter/snap, "If...If they can't handle me, then so be it! I'll just keep fighting for my planet alone!"

With that, I bolt out of the door as fast as my lead-legs will allow me to. Almost blindly, I stumble onto the streets of Chiago, heading for nowhere imparticular. All I know now is I've got to put as much distance me or anyone else for as long as Loricly possible.

* * *

A buzz is what gives me strength now.

Slouched over the smooth material of the counter, I clutch my salavation in one fist. Fading lights flash then return to blackness; the music defeans the last remaint of the outside world from my thoughts. I've been as reasonable to not dance with anyone- that never was a talent of mine- but I'm on my forth bottle. From a couple of nights of sneaking into the kitchen when I was still with Jemstone and Summer, I know I'll be able to take even more than Jem could.

These deadly drinks simply murder my pain.

A mass of blonde hair whips in front of my vision. Some stripper is having the time of her life, drunk off her ass while I'm mainly sober. Beyond her long beaded hair, however, I see a familar face through the blurred light casting away from the flashing colors. He has no idea why he's here- he doesn't want to be. He's lost by the worried, slightly hostile gleam in his eyes; I can only guess who could've brought him to a place like this.

Maybe I can approach him without approaching my newest rival.

Reaching out through the warm bodies, I grab his wrist. His body twists in preparation of an attack; I know his alertness won't last long. When he appears to make out my face, his own fills with almost bitter relief. Recklessly treking through the masses that stand in front of us, I guide him to sit beside me at the counter. After a quick round order, he's holding the same type of bottle I am.

"Go ahead," I urge, my words only slurred at the end, "it's an undescrible relief."

Though reluctantly, he obeys me.

* * *

Even if I could stomach ten before I was technically buzzed, he could only manage two before he vomited all over the dance floor.

Now the music is hardly muffled by the bathroom walls as I rub his back. From inside the toliet bowl, I know his face is hot and sweat-soaked; he must feel like crap. When the horrible retching has ceased once more, I sit him back in the stall. Even if this bathroom was for women, it didn't really matter in a place like this. His unfocused struggle to find me for a sympathtic gaze.

"I'm sorry..." I say quietly, squatting down and pulling his face against my chest for some level of comfort, "I'm so sorry, John."

His bleary blue eyes peek up only briefly before his lips find me. Surprisingly enough, I actually find myself kissing back.

_Sarah is going to murder me. _

* * *

**_Author Note:_** Read and review...:3


	20. Team Player

The Hunt of Five 20

**_Author Note:_ ***Looks at last time I updated.* O.O.

I am _SO _sorry for making you guys wait so long! D: My dad's getting remarried this weekend, and I'm going on a family vay-cay after that, so updates won't be as regular for the next few weeks...But I will have time to write, so expect some make up when I can get stuff up! I love you guys, thanks for sticking with me.

* * *

_**Four's P. O. V. **_

There are typical headaches. There are headaches were you just want to lie down or sleep. There are even migraines.

Then there are _hangovers._

When I hazard opening my sticky-shut eyes, the light burns too much for me to keep my lids up for longer than a few seconds. Groaning out my misery, I roll over to my side slightly and pressing my burning cheek to the pillow. Not much compares to the agony I'm feeling now; It absolutely sucks. Subconsciously, my fingers feel for another warm body nearby, such as Sarah or Six. Whoever's around, I'll take them. _Anybody _to get my mind off of this hangover...

_This hangover. _

Oh gosh, what did I do?

"Look who finally woke up from the dead," a feminine voice suddenly speaks from beside me, her voice on tinted with teasing, "are you okay, Four?"

"Emily?" I murmur softly for confirmation.

"Yep," she agrees in the same soft voice, "are you going to survive? You had a rough one last night."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I mumble, reaching up weakly to clear my eyes, "gosh, what happened?"

Even though I can't see it with my eyes shut, I'm pretty sure she frowns. "You got a little drunk before you vomited. Then….well…"

"What?" an edge of panic seeps into my voice.

"Well, I _was _helping you clean yourself up…." She begins before pausing hesitantly, "but then….you kind of kissed me…"

I nearly throw up on the spot. To think that I'd kiss Five, when I'm in love with Sarah and possibly Six….

_Gosh, Sarah is going to murder us. _

"Um….did you….kiss back?" I ask lamely.

By this point, I've forced my eyes back open to squint at her. Her face is completely solemn as she simply looks at me, giving me my answer. With another groan, I shove a pillow over my face. The only reason I went to that damned bar was because Nine was, and I didn't want him to kill himself with how reckless he's been acting lately. I never imagined Emily would be there, but then again, I never imagined I'd actually get drunk either.

_Damn it. _

"What are we going to do?" I manage.

"We don't tell anybody about it," she drops her voice a few octaves, "and don't do that again."

I agree….but I'm not sure about that. She kissed me back; there are either feelings in place, or the alcohol was talking to her too.

"How come you aren't hung over?" I ask, a bit envious.

"This isn't my first time. Besides, I was only buzzed," she snorts a bit.

Someone knocks at the door. Slowly, I lift the pillow to peek up into her eyes, finding them a somber brown. Throwing a glance at the door after we lock gazes, she presses a finger to her lips to signal being quiet before rising from where she was sitting at my beside.

When the door opens, I find Sarah standing there, looking concerned. While she's taking a seat, I watch Emily leave out of the corner of my eye. She mentioned it wasn't the first time this had happened to her…but she's only seventeen. Sure, Nine's in the same boat, but she's a reasonable smart girl. What need would she have to get drunk?

"John, what happened to you last night?" Sarah now frowns.

"Well….I went with Nine to the bar and ended up drinking a little…." Just the thought of it is making my stomach churn, threatening to empty itself again.

"You had me worried sick…" she reprimands lightly, pressing a cool hand to my forehead, "You're burning up."

"Sorry…" I murmur weakly, simply closing my eyes and trying to think about anything but my new problems. I can't cope with them right now and I know it.

Her stern face softens a little, "I forgive you….just try to get some rest, alright?"

"My head hurts…" I murmur, covering my eyes once more to shield them from the light.

"Then I'll get you something for it," she bends over briefly to press her cool lips to my sweaty, red forehead, "just sleep."

As she leaves, guilt burns inside more intensely than my fever is. She's been loyal to me through torture and seeing things she's never deserved to see, and what do I do? I go and kiss an independent girl who doesn't even trust us fully.

_Damn it to hell._

* * *

_**Nine's P. O. V. **_

"You know, I thought you'd be hung over, too."

I don't look up from my pizza as Five makes that sarcastic comment from behind, "What's it to you?"

Though she's not in front of me, I feel her narrowing her eyes at me, "I know you were at the bar last night."

"So?" I smirk a bit over my pepperoni, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually _care _about me, Number Five."

Now she marches around to my front, the ever present fire in her eyes sparking. She even puts her hands on her hips- a nice touch, in my opinion. Too bad I'm not really listening to anything she's got to tell me about when I go get drunk.

"Let me give it to you straight, Number Nine," she tells me stiffly, "I don't care about _you_. I care about our mission to save Lorien. I care about taking every single Mog down, going back home, and starting back our entire race once again. I care about Loric like Ella, who have good hearts and are willing to fight until the bitter end. The only reason I'm confronting you is because if you're dead, we're all going to lose a huge amount of force. But I don't care about _you_."

At the end of her little speech, I get to my feet to tower over her a bit. Probably still unnerved from our fight a couple of days ago, she recoils, but I anticipate it and take her left wrist before she can. Immediately, she begins trying to jerk free from my iron grip.

"Let me _go_, Nine," she hisses, "because I am just _waiting _for a chance to kick your ass."

"Like you did when we fought a couple of days ago?" I remind casually, which only pisses her off.

"Just let me go, asshole," she snarls now, jerking even more desperately. At that, I wrap the other arm around her upper torso, securing against my solid chest in one easy motion.

"Now," I ignore her growling, "how about telling me the truth?"

She begins to squirm with her all, but it's nothing compared to my strength. After a few minutes, she finally blurts out, "I don't want you to die, okay?!"

A slow faint smirk makes it's way onto my face, "That's better."

As fun at is becoming to piss her off, I release her. She's on her feet instantly, whirling around and glaring bitterly. My smirk only grows stronger as I lean back, folding my hands behind my head. I cock up an eyebrow.

"Problem, Number Five?" I inquire casually.

She narrows her eyes further, which I didn't think was possible at this point, "Yes. Your face."

"Sorry," I grin wickedly, "we can't all look like you do in the mirror." At my comment, her face turns pink-red, but not from anger for once.

_Whoa. Did I just...flirt with her? _

"...Well damn," she comments, shaking her head and seeming in a daze, "I need to go...stretch my legs..."

As she stumbles out, I can't help but groan under my breath. She's probably never going to know it, but I guess I'm starting to like her for more than her body. She's a firecracker, but I can kick her ass and mine not kicked back as hard as Six would. It's a pretty nice change of pace to be able to mess with someone like that and them not be so vicious to either kill you or at least hate you. Everybody else is so uptight; She lets me have fun without even knowing it.

It's a pretty good arrangement if you ask me.

* * *

**_Marina's P. O. V. _**

Even if it's pretty in the open and a bit risky, I decided that Ella needed some time to spend with some of the other kids her age. All of the others as well as myself are older; It must be stressful. She deserves as much of a chance to have a little bit of a childhood as the rest of us did. Eight is now sitting with his hand in mine as Ella jumps rope with some of the other children, an enormous smile on her face. It's nice to see after so long.

"Marina?" Emily's voice surprises both of us.

"Hey, Em," Eight says casually, as if they've known each other for years, "care to join us?"

She looks slightly hesitant, "What are we doing?"

"We're just hanging out," I reply casually, smiling warmly and reassuringly.

Though she still doesn't very excited, she moves to sit on Eight's other side. Ella notices her arrival from where she's still playing and sends us all a warm, content smile, making both Emily and I grin in return. I'm still not sure what to think of her; we don't really talk anyway. It's a little hard to think we'll have to fight together eventually when she hardly trusts anyone and seems as concerned for Ella as I am along with the traitor Mogodorian boy.

"Marina?" Eight's voice brings me back into reality. His face is full of unease that immediately puts a bad feeling in my gut as well.

"Yeah?" I inquire, creasing my forehead, "is everything okay? Did...did any of the others call?"

"No, but...I feel like something's bad going to happen really soon..." he chews on his lower lip, glancing around with his beautifully green eyes anxiously, "honestly."

"Have you had that feeling before?" Emily voices.

He nods slowly, "...Have you?"

She nods. Feeling a bit anxious now myself, I glance back over to Ella. She doesn't deserve us tearing her away from this brief happiness; she deserves any joy she can gain through our forced lives. For her sake, though, I know we can't risk anything. All of us are vital in this fight and we all know it. As if she was reading my mind, (that always _could _be a Legacy of hers,) Emily stands.

"I'm going to check on the others," her voice calm and collected, "maybe it's just a feeling, Eight."

Ella's big brown eyes follow her as she heads back toward the Center, but I just smile reassuringly. Once she turns back to her game with the other kids, I kiss Eight's cheek lightly and hold his hand.

_For all our sakes, it better just be a feeling..._

* * *

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

Number Eight claimed he had a bad _feeling_. If there's one thing I've learned, though, it's that _feelings _for us are pure instinct. And after all we've supposedly been through, our instinct should be accurate- at least mine are.

As I make way back to the John Handcock Center, my mind drifts to Number Nine. He's full of it- much more than I would've expected from a Garde- but he _is _the strongest. I spent my days not only fighting Mogs to keep myself alive, but also my best friend and the daughter of my Cepan. I'm skilled and can take down Mogodorians easily, but I'm no match for a powerful Garde.

It means my game has to be stepped up.

Squinting against the early afternoon light filtering through the few clouds in the sky, I peer up at our hideout. It's not ideal, but it's seemed better protected than most of the places I hide out in in the past. This is one of the longest time periods I've stayed in one place without a threat- nearly three weeks now. It's kind of incredible, but I'm not one to believe in true peacetime.

_Something bad's going to happen really soon,_ I mentally agree to Eight's concern.

Sighing softly, I make my way further than the sidewalk. I don't belong here with the others and I know it; it's depressing. I'm too equipped to survival by myself to be of much use to them, (as if my fight with Nine was a clear enough indication,) and protecting others has gotten them all killed thus far. Not only have I lost Jem and Summer, but I had to abandon Michele nearly a month ago in a dead, cold place with total strangers. Now nobody trusts my traitor-Mogodorain companion and I'm not fitting in at all.

_If I left, would it truly put them at risk to be down a number? _I wonder, glancing up at the slowly darkening sky, _or would it be better for them to adapt without me? _

They're already a team whether they see it or not. Numbers Four and Six seem to have quite the bond working for them, just like Numbers Seven and Eight. Nine is reckless and arrogant, but she's already close to Seven and has somehow grown attached to him as well. Eight and Four appear agreeable in general, and even Sarah probably plays a role in their survival. As far as I go, I'm just the extra with one Legacy other than telekinesis and teamwork issues.

_I'm not a part of this team. I'm just Number Five. _

* * *

**_Unknown's P. O. V. _**

"...Perfect."

I break into a wide grin. It may not be professional under the circumstances, but it's nothing that we can withhold from. After so much searching and investigation when it came to the Garde, we have finally located them. Not only have we located them, but one of them has been strayed. Some simple hacking and maneuvering proves that the fifth one chartered to die is now heading away from her precious 'team', revealing she'll the easiest to target aside from the little one and the 'adorable' Garde couple, whom are furthest from their companions.

It is a perfect act of bliss. It is a perfect act of ignorance.

It is the perfect time to murder.


	21. Skyhigh Deal

The Hunt of Five 21

_**Author Note: **_Seriously, I don't understand why you guys read my stuff with there's pure genius like yours...;.;

If you write other fanfiction I haven't read, I'd love too! :D Anything I've read from you guys is all so much better than my stuff, it's just... .*le heart.*

I love you guys for putting up with my stuff... .*le heart, le heart, le heart.*

* * *

**_Michele's P. O. V. _**

It's not a very good idea, but I'm goin' do it anyway.

I hold Emily's jacket closer around my body. I dunno where she went or how I'm going to find her, but I've definitely got to try. Reaching in front of me, I button it up and climb on the plane. Just like when we first came here, there aren't a lot of people here- there's only five. I sit beside a girl who looks nice- she's smiling really big as she listens to music through her earphones. She smiles at me- she's really pretty- so I smile back and snuggle up. Soon I'll be wherever Emily is, and I can be with her forever and ever.

I can be totally happy.

It's not like I want to leave Brandon and Nick and Liam and their mother and their grandfather, but...but I really miss Emily. She was a lot like Jessie, and Jessie was my bestest friend. 'Sides, Emily didn't leave me when that scary person tried to hurt us really bad. If a scary person tries to hurt, I'm going to stay with her and keep her safe, too.

"What's your name sweetheart?" the really pretty girl asks all of a sudden.

"Michele," I smile back at her all nice.

"That's a pretty name," her smile gets even bigger, "so Michele, do you know a girl named Emily?"

My eyes widen. Maybe she knows where Emily is, and if she does, I can find her even faster and we can be happy again! Grinning really big, I nod and ask, "Do you?"

"As a matter of fact..." she's grinning even bigger than I am, "I _do_. And come to think of it...I know _exactly _where she is!" My eyes grow as big as our smiles as I nod really hard, looking at her hopefully. "Tell you what: If you just stay with me no matter _what _happens, I _promise _you'll find her and you two can be together."

"YAY!" I gasp, sticking out my pinkie finger, "pinkie promise?"

Doing a sideways smile with one corner of her mouth, she shakes my pinkie with her own.

* * *

**_***Time shift to three days later.***_**

* * *

**_Eight's P. O. V. _**

We're frantic at this point. Emily- Number Five- disappeared without a possible trace. My gut feeling that expects something horrible to occur hasn't lessened after we first discovered she was gone, but I'm mentally convinced that this was what my paranoia was predicting. Out of all of us, however, the most shaken up are Adamus, Nine, and Ella. All three of them were concerned for her in different ways; her disappearance is taking its toll. Nine has been a practical hermit in the confines of his room, refusing to come out or even open the door unless room service offers food. Ella has been moping around, looking up hopefully at any knock from the door and seeming to grow more sad when it's not Emily returning. Adamus has been heard from about as much as Nine has, but I don't think he's eaten.

Marina suggested I take him food.

_Only for her..._I think as I knock on his door. We never truly interact, but our few confrontations haven't been anything to be necessarily proud of from my side.

It takes several moments, but the door eventually cracks open. A pair of wide brown eyes darts up and down briefly before the wood begins to shut in my face, but he's not that quick yet. The toe of my boot wedges the crack in tact, my free heel allowing me to kick it open further. I poke my head inside of the room, offering the food with one hand. His eyes dart up and down questioning before making a decision, accepting the small plate and shrinking away.

"Are you alright?" I ask despite myself.

He's a Mogodorian, but he obviously has feelings too. The remorse twisting on his naturally pale face is evident through the dim lighting cast across his small figure, even as his gaze meets the ground.

"I will be, I suppose," his voice is tight, yet soft and full of pain. Being a Mog _traitor_, this isn't the first time he's lost someone of significance.

Despite my remorse for his kind, I place a hand on his shoulder. This surprises both of us; his head snaps up to meet my gaze. I slightly shrug, sliding my fingers away and turning my back stiffly. It's alarming enough all the same when his hand briefly touches my midback, pausing- freezing me- in the same spot.

My muscles clench when he speaks, "I want you to trust me."

"It would make things easier..." I respond slowly, "but it's not that easy. I can imagine you'd know that, right?"

His hand disappears, "This is true."

Though somewhat reluctantly, I turn back to meet his gaze directly, "Then what do you plan on doing about it?"

His lower lip folds under his teeth with concern. He's obviously smart and has some traits or leadership, but it's even more obvious he's not the most independent being that ever lived. Judged by his reaction, he's still trying to figure that himself. To be honest, though, I honestly don't know what to do to cut him any slack. Trust is delicate thing; there's no set way to earn it. I might not be as difficult as Nine or Six will be, but it will be no small feat. Now that Five has disappeared as well, he's becoming a prime suspect as to knowing where she went.

If he didn't look so heartbroken right now, I'd confront physically.

"Th...thanks for the f-food," he finally manages. I nod once and pull the door to behind me.

As I make my way down the hallway, I notice that I'm not only one on the upper floor that Nine owns. John looks just as alarmed to see me as he steps out of the room across from the one I was in- Emily's room. I raise my eyebrows at him as his face colors upon seeing me.

"Any reason why you were in there?" I inquire casually.

"Um..." he stutters out lamely, "I was looking for any hints at why she left."

I cock up my eyebrows, "Did you have luck?"

He shakes his head sheepishly. I wouldn't exactly call him a _player_, but the poor guy is a hard time figuring out who he's in love with. I'm not exactly sure when feelings started developing for Emily, but it can only mean trouble. He's a great guy, but even if she w_as _here, she wouldn't go for him or anyone. Sarah is in utter love and Six seems indifferent for her relations to him; it's a messy love triangle/square.

"Well, good luck," I state simply, heading to the 100th floor.

I find Six sitting cross-legged on the couch, slipping a card from a stack as Marina smiles a bit. Both of them have been trying to keep their mind off of Emily the past couple of days, which is understandable but ultimately inevitable. Ella's sitting beside Marina, but her face is so sad as Six asks if they have any fives that I can hardly take it. Frowning deeply myself, I make my way over and get in on my knees behind my crush and my little sister figure and wrap my arms around both of them. This surprising my (hopefully) future girlfriend, as her head snaps back and her eyes widen. I smirk good naturedly.

"Is Nine rubbing off on you or something?" she teases lightly, causing me to chuckle very briefly.

Ella has the faintest ghost of a smile on her face as she wriggles free slowly. Six rolls her eyes a bit, flopping her cards across the tables and moving them around with her hands.

"Anything round?" she offers with a sigh.

I merely shrug, watching as Ella heads upstairs herself, probably to see Nine. Once she's out of earshot, I lower my voice, "Any luck tracking her?"

Six shakes her head grimly, "She won't open her Chest up. She probably left it here to avoid being tracked."

I sigh sadly, reluctantly sliding a few cards toward me, "Fine then...anything round."

Emily either doesn't know how essential she'll be or doesn't care; that's my best guess to why she disappeared like that. She's got so much potential despite her trust issues with the rest of us Garde, but based on what's happened in the past three days she's been M.I.A., she doesn't act like she's planning on returning anytime soon. It was selfish of her, but I can't help but feel I was neglectful as well to not making her feel her value or convince her that she had to stay for us to be able to win.

At the rate this is going, though, it'll be too late by the time she comes around again.

* * *

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

Shivers are sent through my being as I gaze up at the enormous planes taking off and coming in just outside the even more large window that makes up the window that overlooks the runways.

Ever since I left the other Garde a few days again I made the decision to find Michele. She may have been only seven, but she deserves as much of a right to know why I did what I did to her. The Garde do as well, but the time isn't right. I've kept my little charge waiting long enough and I know that very well. I'm heading to Antarctica with no intentions of looking back, hesitating, or regretting.

I know I'll do all three, though.

* * *

"_I'm at a payphone, tryin to call home, all my change I spent on you..."_

I become aware of that being the song that's playing in my ears as my eyes snap open. The other passengers didn't feel it, as proven by their angry business calls and furious typing as the flight grows closer to whatever important city we're heading to, but the tremor definitely just vibrating the plane. I sit up straighter, looking around with narrowed eyes.

_"Where have the times gone? Baby, it's all wrong. Where are the plans we made for two?" _

Another tremor vibrates the floor of the airplane. Now I'm on the edge of my seat, knuckles beginning to drain of color as I grip the armrests. The older woman beside me casts me a quizzical glance briefly before going back to her wine; I can't help but scowl slightly.

_These humans' oblivion is what's going to end up getting them all killed, _I roll my eyes as think this, _if I can save them, though..._

A more powerful tremor shifts beneath us, which finally gains a few more to pay attention. Despite the flight attendent's death glare, I rise and make my way into the aisle, heading for the emergency exit. I can feel that something about to go wrong, and I know I have to keep this plane in the air when it does or all of these people will die. I'm barely halfway there when a brief, mild tremor turns to violent jerk to the right. I immediately lose balance and nearly topple over straight over the lap of a business man who looks pissed enough already; luckily I manage to catch myself on the window beside his head. The plane lefts just as sharply to the left, tipping me back and eliciting several screams from the now petrified passengers. This time I grab one of the seats, steadying myself as best I can while the entire plane is tipping almost completely on the left side.

The flight attendant is too busy shrieking on the verge of tears to stop me as I tear toward the front of the plane. Now we're being rocked back and forth, nudging to the right side before flipping almost completely upside down briefly. A few babies shriek in octaves I didn't know went they high, (just like their parents,) as I finally snag the door handle that leads into the cockpit and find it locked. Someone clutches my waist with shaking fingers- an old lady. Heartbreaking tears of terror stream down her face with fear in her eyes; I practically have no choice but to throw myself over her as the door flies open.

Three men who are more tall and pale than _any _human storm out, and judging by the stomping of boots behind theirs, they brought friends. They stalk in the aisle, their beady eyes looking around critically. One of them barks out something in Mogodorian- I kind barely make it out from the brief lessons Jem used to give Summer and I are there language. Something about '_Where' _and '_Five_' and _'Kill'_.

Those aren't good words in my book.

I slip my fingers into my back pocket slowly to avoid attention, bringing out my 'forbidden' pocket knife. My Chest is in the floorboard where I was sitting, (I snuck into the Hancock Center to retrieve it at midnight the night I left,) and if I can get to hit I can probably save these humans. The woman is now clutching my wrist, but I really have no choice but to slowly peel her fingers off and to begin making my way into the aisle.

This gains attention instantly.

"_Kill_!" one of them rasps.

The one closest to me obviously slashes first with the unmistakable blade of a Mog blade, but I've got anticipation skills; I dodge, ducking easily and even managing to kick it out of his grip. As his weapon goes flying, I make a mad bolt to my seat, leaping to stand in my chair and banging on the compartment door for my all. It's not enough, however, and I'm suddenly slung backwards from a fierce grab around my waist. I cry out as my back collides hard with the plane, only jeering it further and petrifying the young couple I was tossed carelessly and painfully beside. Grunting in agony, I stumble right back up, now more pissed than determined.

_This is for the Garde. _

Two lunge out at the same time, but a roundhouse kick knocks them both solidly in their jaws. While they're dazed, I use those precious seconds to kick one backwards, grabbing the others neck when the momentum pushes me forward. In a quick jerk, his neck is snapped and I'm ready for the next attack. The once weaponless Mog slices at me, creating a new slice just under my ribs that bleeds heavily on impact. Moaning at the sting it brings, I reach to snatch the sword again, but he stomps down on my foot before I can. My scream cuts through the air as the first Mog bends back both my arms, yanking me backwards and suspending me agonizingly over the floor. From my breaking position, all I can see are their ugly faces...and all the glass lights above that are now flickering.

_This is for Jemstone and for Summer. _

Squinting, I concentrate on the glass and the fading light...then shut my eyes when cracking fills the air. Moments later, shards of glass come raining down; the humans wail and scramble. I barely have time to feel regret as I jerk free of the stunned Mogodorians, snatching the weapon and spinning a full, unsteady circles that ends with their dissolving ashes. Boots clomp rapidly behind me, but I'm ready now...at least as much as I'll ever be.

_This is for Lorien._

Now armed, I charge for them head on on impulse. I'm hacking and slashing, as Nine would put it- it's empowering. Once a steady pile of ash has coating my clothes, it occurs to be the plane had to be hijacked; I have to take out the pilots. Spitting out the horrible ashtray taste of Mog remains, I stumble back to the compartments, hand at my injured, heavily bleeding side. I have to be fast or I'll bleed out; I jab the sword into the compartment door and yank it free. Grabbing my Chest, I yank it open and take out my num-chucks; I haven't used them in ages, but I suppose I never had a pressing reason too.

Pretty skillfully, (if I do say so myself,) I take off into the cockpit. Sure enough, three ugly heads are behind three aimed blasters; I freeze. A forth one struggles to speak in human and manages finally, "Plane...goes down if you...m-move."

I glare but keep my muscles tense. I suppose they never learn...

Moments later, the lights above them shatter and plunge us into darkness other than the dim outside light. Before they can react again, I've decapitated one and racing up to a second. He claws at my face and manages some nasty cheek scratches, but not with the cost of his own life. The third one has a bit more sense and has started firing, burning firey holes into the sides and revealing the anxious, petrified, and partially injured people in the main compartment.

Rage burns anew instead of me at the reminder of who else I'm saving here.

_This is for the humans. _

I bent forward and headbutt the third Mog, but this leaves me stumbling back with a killer headpain. He smirks, aiming the blaster my forehead but reacting slowly enough for to snatch the barrel and squeeze as hard as I can. It breaks and allows me to punch him in the face before gutting him like a fish. The forth is my only issue...but _he_'s disappeared. Now there's a girl who look only a little younger than myself sitting there...and she's holding a familiar girl by the hair with the trenchcoat on the floor that was obviously covering her up before.

"Michele!" I gasp out.

"Em-Emily..." she whimpers, looking even more horrified/confused/petrified as a blaster is jammed into her small forehead.

"Let me make a deal with you, _Number Five_," the girl smirks evilly, her eyes as hollow as all Mogodorians' always posses, "you give up now and allow yourself to die, your little friend here lives."

I've seen a situation like this too many times from Hollywood; betrayal is the most obvious factor. It's an inevitable choice and I know it, however, and so does she. Her smirks widens as she rests one hand casually on the trigger that could burn a hole through Michele. Sweet, innocent, young Michele who deserves so much more than what she's getting right now. I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat as I meet gazes with my former/suddenly current charge. She looks so helpless and pleading...my eyes widen with moisture and occurrence.

"Go on," I whisper, "shoot."

Now the girl's gaze widens as she sneers weakly, "I thought you were better than that, Loric."

But she doesn't pull the trigger.


	22. Destined for Greatness

The Hunt of Five 22

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

That precious moment when she fails to fire is when I lunge out and snatch the weapon away.

She struggles briefly, kicking up and squirming furiously like a child throwing a tantrum. It's to no avail under my locked pin, however, and it dawns on her all at once. She stops her fighting, staring into my eyes with pure hatred that hardly fazes me at this point. All Mogs get this look in their eye before that cease to dust, before they meet their match in their final time. She won't die right now, but she's well on her way and we both know it.

She hates it. I savor it.

Michele is petrified of both of us.

"Where did you get Michele?" I snarl, pressing the barrel of her own former weapon and resting my finger tightly controlled upon the trigger.

"Where...where you _left _her, dumbass!" she chokes out from my throat clamping down her throat harshly, "I...I promised her I take her to you! A...and I _did_!"

"You tried to bluff me. You acted as if you were going to kill her but you didn't have to guts too. Keep that word in mind _very close _to the front, because that's all you _are_, isn't it? Just a little actress who proposes things and makes fake lies, fake deals, and fake trusts to just shatter them with their own fear later. I'm going to say this once and listen very well because this is the last thing you'll ever hear: You can't fool me, little girl, because I do the. Same. Damn. _Thing_."

"I didn't have the balls to kill the pipsqueak..." she gasps out as I squeeze the trigger down, "but I had enough to murder the pl-"

The sound of her skull cracking on impact from the lazer bullets fills the room, sending her last word to be forever choked in her strangled throat. I heft myself up, kicking away her dead body. Michele looks mortified but I'll just have to handle her later; I have to find whatever bomb she's implanted in this ship. A searing pain buds behind my eyes as I stumble to the steering wheel, gripping it as the plane tips without any control and desperately switching it to hover. The pain behind my eyes grows even more intense while I take off into the isles, ignoring the stares of the horrified, confused, and probably scarred humans. I reach the conclusion that Michele's will always haunt me the most as I struggle under the plane's surface, deep into the gears and under storage.

Burning sensations seem to be exploding behind my eyes as I feel along the cold, grinding and slowing gears of the plane. Just about the time my fingers hit air, they press something down and a loud beeping fills the air. The pain is just as unbearable as the ripping in my heart as it truly begins to settle on me that all of the humans who boarded this plane are going to _die_. Little Michele and innocent humans are all kinds are going to be murdered all because I was on _this _plane, for what reason? Because I was a coward in running from my Garde.

And I'm going to die alone in the air.

My eyes snap open again as the beeping grows more in volume; I hadn't even realized I shut them. I snap my head around to the see the bomb I just foolishly activated, but the problem is is that I don't just see _that_. I suddenly see sluggishly moving parts grinding that I didn't before, all of the sounds I'd registered subconsciously becoming a visual. The bomb is bleeping furiously, wedged between the metal frame of one of the engines with the buttons being the only thing ticking off. The numbers are flashing down in seconds.

_**14...**_

_**13...**_

_**12...**_

_**11...**_

A gasp catches in my throat as I lunge for it. Using my Legacy, I slip my hand into said engine easily and grab it out, crushing it beneath my fist easily. The bleeping ceases, but I know there has to be more; there is no way it could be otherwise knowing the Mogodorians. I look back and forth, squinting my eyes and letting my caught gasp strangle free. There are indeed bombs everywhere, but not on the surface; wedged skillfully beneath than now almost transparent medal to my screwed up eyes. None of them are activated yet, but I've got to stop that from occurring.

Moving as fast as I can when I'm aching all over, I snatch each one out of the workings they were implanted in and snap each one in half. My hands are bloody and throbbing when I'm finished with at least all thirty, but I'm definitely victorious. Things are still out of normal focus as I watch the inner workings of the door and the backs of the seats upon dragging myself back into the main part.

"Who...who are you?!" one lady cries out.

I merely lift a hand to silence her, not finding it myself to find out if I can see into her body. I've got no experience in flying planes, but Jemstone _did _teach Summer and I how drive cars, trucks, and even eighteen wheels. I know it's not true, but it's hopeful enough to think that I'll successfully land down a plane with passengers and cargo safely.

It's worth a shot, I suppose.

* * *

**_John's P. O. V. _**

My eyes go wide when the dot appears on the tablet. It took wrestling and a lot of arguing, but Nine and I finally managed to hook the tablet back up and sync it to the entire system Sandor created. All of the glowing dots are bound together in Illinois, but there is a lone one stumbling around shakily around in West Virginia toward the lower half. I lock gazes with Nine only briefly before I head into the main room to alert the others.

"We've found Five."

* * *

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

My fatal mistake was switching the plane off of hover.

The wheel jerked and I snatched it instantly, straightening out the plane for the first time in the past hour or so. Something shakes the ground violently beneath us the moment I do, and judging by a frozen Michele's shriek and the ones following, the humans felt that one. I curse under my breathe and jerk my gaze down, seeing straight through the floor and seeing a large bomb right between the two main engines that's pressed down by the plane's angle. If I leave the wheel, we spin out of control and fall out of the sky. If I don't, we all reach the ground as barbeque.

It is the perfect death trap.

I throw out my hand, snatching the intercom in one tight, shaking fist, "Thi...this is your new captain speaking. Listen, everyone. This plane is going to go down and it's going to go down fast. I'm going to point this plane toward wherever I can find water, and you need to try to find some parachutes and jump off as fast as humanly possible. _This is not a drill. __I am so sorry_."

A sob chokes free as I cut off the intercom. Sounds of running and screaming echo behind me as I look down again though hot tears to the city zipping below. Judging on my preverbal vision, we're nowhere near water, but we may in the next few minutes most of these people and I probably have to live. I keep my head down, even as I feel a small, shaking hand on my shoulder.

"Em-Emily?" Michele asks through her silent tears, "we...we're going to d-die now, a-aren't we?"

I close my eyes briefly to keep another sob from escaping. She tells me, "That...that's okay, though. We're going to die together, and I'm going to get to see Jessie. Maybe you can see your family, too."

The sobs chokes its way free now and I find myself pulling her into my lap. Despite it all, she's maintained her innocence and is still holding on tight to what she still has left of life. I throw one arm around her and cry quietly along with her as I search for water, praying those poor other people can find parahutes if there are any before they all are gone.

* * *

**_Adam's P. O. V. _**

It was decided on one of the nights we were all teary, frustrated, and desperate.

If they were to catch a signal of Emily, Nine, Eight, Six, and John would all head out to save her. Marina was to stay back with Ella and Sarah to keep the penthouse 'in tact' and to stop any Mogs who were to come near to the best of their abilities after alerting them; the goal was for them to train even harder with them not around. It was the only system that could work for everyone's survival.

"You be careful," Eight whispers to Marina as they share a final kiss and John and Sarah make out shamelessly.

Ella stands beside me sadly as we watch the scene unfold. Six is already waiting below in a car, battle ready and an independent at heart, I suppose. Ella obviously wants to go just as badly, to help just as I've heard she did with Nine on their quest to locate Emily. But we all know it simply can't be done with what is for certain at stake and anything we don't yet know about.

I simply join Six in the car after giving Ella a farewell hug.

* * *

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

The plane has found water and is pointed down for it hot.

I suppose they found parchutes, because a lot of the people are no longer on the plane. The only ones who remain are an old couple holding each other tightly in their seats, their faces full of fear but acceptance of their end. A baby screams at the top of its lungs for his long-gone parents, and the elderly lady sits beside it. There doesn't seem to be a trace of the few other passengers now, and the horror refills my eyes.

"I'm so sorry..." I whisper out.

I take a lot down at the open door sucking in all of the air, carrying away abandoned items. My only chance is to jump out myself, but what good would that do? We're all in for it anyway. Michele, whom followed me out, suddenly cries out of seemingly joy.

"There's one more, Emily!" she exclaims, "see There's a chute!"

I can see why nobody took it; It's got a strap missing and parts look pretty torn. I turn back to the elders and the shrieking baby, slowly pulling up the pack and coming the old lady beside the baby. I show it to her but she just gives me a sad smile.

"Our time isn't up yet, dear, but yours will be if you don't go," she speaks rather well for no teeth; I have no time to question that as I look at the baby, "take him and the little girl. You are destined for greatness."

My aching heart hammers as I start seeing through her blouse unwillingly. I snatch the handle of the baby's rider, rushing to the open door and yanking on the back. Michele gasps once as I scoop her up as well, securing her tightly against my chest when I'm shaking horribly. Her small hand grips the top of the rider as her arm secures around me, and without another moment to lose, my feet leave the metal of the plane and we are met by nothing with air. The baby's screams silence as my arise with Michele's.

_We're still alive if it's only for now._


	23. The Fall

The Hunt of Five 22

**_Sarah's P. O. V. _**

"_They're gone_."

There's something morally haunting in those two words themselves, so when applied to reality, it's heartbreaking. To think the Garde would ever have to split after everything it took to get them together is crazy, but now it's reality. I'm quiet as I stare at my feet and Marina holds Ella at the counter stools. We three are truly on are own and there's not much we can do to help unless we want to hurt in the process. I long for John's arms around me as I stare sadly out of the gorgeous view, the wind mewling in the distance against the bitter quiet of the penthouse.

_What if they don't come back?_

"Sa-Sarah?" Ella whispers, "a...are you o-okay?"

My reply is a silent nod as I unsteadily get to my feet. Perhaps I just need some alone time to cry, or some sleep...

* * *

Most people are scared senseless if the alarm blares in their ear when they're in a deep, thoughtful, peaceful sleep. I quickly learned at 3:32 AM that a plane crashing into the roof is _quite _worse of a wake up call.

Smoke eats away the oxygen greedily as I'm flung out of the bed. My mind is numb as I skid across the roughed carpetting, half of it being yanked off the shattered floor by gravity and almost to the next floor before I jerk free. I'm in a complete daze as I wriggle pathetically, carpet burns searing my side and face as I gasp for breath and look around through the blood dripping down. The world appears as I haze as I slowly realize that the strangled, struggled screams belong to me.

Something else crashes and jerks the floor, and it's all I can do to clench my eyes shut as I plummet.

* * *

A pair of wide brown eyes greets my vision when I regan consciousness. At least, I think I'm still alive.

"E-Ella...?" I rasp hoarsely. Something presses my forehead briefly as her eyes begin to water before me, the tears splattering onto my cheek and stinging where they sink into the apparent cuts.

"You're alive," she whispers, her voice just as dehydrated and weak as mine, "thank goodness, I thought I lost both of you.."

"Where's Marina?" I inquire worriedly, not having the strength to keep my eyes open as she slowly begins to sit me up.

That's when I realize the hands on my back are too big to be her own.

I'm lifted by the mystery person and laid onto something cold and vibrating. I let out a shriek to shatter glass, and I imagine my taker wincing as I call frantically, "Ell...Ella! ELLA!"

Someone grips my hands- these hands are smaller. "Don't worry, Sarah. You're going to be okay, I promise."

My chest tightens, bringing on an agonizing pain as snap my vision back. Everything is still smoking and unfocused, but I see three kind faces look down at me and two others moving in the background. The first two faces are male and not familiar, but I know the third anywhere. Her big brown eyes are still teary as she clutches my hand in her smaller ones.

"Who are they?" I whisper as my dry lips crack.

"Don't worry..." she whispers in return, letting go of my hand and slowly backing out of the small room we were all apparently in, "I'll come back for you."

Her auburn hair flies as she darts away in a quick blurr. The two faces turn toward her retreating form, but it must be obvious to all of us they won't be able to catch her. One merely turns back to me as another holds up a cell phone to his ear; I let out something between a sob and cry of 'No!'. The first man gently shushes me as he attaches something to my wrist and crosses my arms over my heaving chest loosely; I realize at this point there's a face mask over my nose and mouth. I whimper out as the second one snaps shut his cell and flips something on beside my head.

"Don't you worry about a thing, hon," the first guy coos to me, "we'll take good care of all three of you lovely ladies."

"Don't...touch...them..." I rasp out. Something beeps furiously and both men now move to calm me down, which only causes the beeping to grow harder and louder.

"We have to get her out of here..." the second mumurs.

Doors slam shut and I can only scream one more time as I'm jerked forward by the room moving. That's when a needle jams into my arm and the world goes numb. Not dark, but horribly numb and barely conscious. I can barely make out in the sign on their vests as I stare at the ceiling and they rise above me.

_The goverment found us._

* * *

**_Six's P. O. V. _**

"_We are never ever ever, getting back together..._"

Nine's cocky grin widens as John attempts to elbow his ribs in response to his loud, off key sing-along to the Taylor Swift song he has blaring on his MP3. I resist the urge to wipe the expression of his face by gripping the wheel until my knuckles are whiter than cream; I have to keep us on the road for right now. Time is wasted enough trying to find Emily and remain as hidden as we were before_ without _Nine and I getting into a brawl.

"Knock it off you two," Eight demands tightly from the passenger seat.

From the rearview I can't help but notice Adam shrinking further against the left door where he's sitting. He was practically a no-brainer to bring along, but it's not really what any of us wanted. As far as I've observed he basically has no use other than the fact he knows a few Mogodorian tricks and he's known Emily longer/a bit better than we do; he's merely slowing us down and taking up space. At least Nine and John have seperated for the time being and Nine's gone back to his ridiculous music.

"Any progress?" I ask Eight in a mumble as I swerve yet another drunk/high driver.

He glances down at the tablet and his eyes instantly widening, "She just moved down rapidly all of a sudden."

"Is she still in the same state or city?" I frown. She was already moving on what has to be a plane, but a sudden drop doesn't sound any more appealing.

"In the same state...she's in the water," his frown deepens to watch everybody else's expressions, "something just went wrong."

"Cant you drive this thing any faster?!" Nine suddenly snaps from the right seat in the back. I glare at him dangerously, jerking the car to the side to throw him against the door briefly.

Moments later John is practically sitting on him as I slam the peddle to the floor. My temper is unavoidable but not needed; It may result in a wreck but I hardly care at this point. This entire is pretty impractical to me, so that doesn't help my mood. If Five doesn't want to be a team player or cooperate, then why should we go risking our own necks for her?

_Because she can fight. _

I answer myself mentally in a bitter, cold-hard truth tone. It _is _the truth, but I don't to like it while I'm forced to accept it. I glance down at my scarred ankle and find myself hoping her scar doesn't burn too soon for more than reason of it being agony for we Garde.

"Wait..." Eight's edgy voice is now panicked, "Ella and Marina's dots are moving apart!"

Nine's head snaps up even more quickly than Adam's and John's as I look over in alarm, "How quickly?!"

"One's going toward the coast and the other is going in opposite direction..." his breathing is becoming more rapid, "something's had to have happened to them, too. The one going to the coast is moving a lot more quickly than the one in the other direction...what if the Mogs found them?"

"We have to go back," John speaks what's in both of their tones.

Adam begins to nod in agreement, but I merely sigh, "We can't and you all know it. We've got to find Five, and what could will it do to be even more split up than we already are? We'll just be more vulnerable."

"Well, we can't let them die," Nine points out tightly from the back, "and what's with your sudden interest in Number Five? We all know you don't want to help her."

My fists itch to shut them all up as I practically snarl, "Who's the one driving here?"

Silence envelopes the car and I sigh shakily. This all is becoming too much; none of us work like a team. If Number Five though she would be a help by disappearing, she only broke a already uncertain, shifting 'family'. If the Mogs attack now, we'll been exposed as well as practically helpless.

Perhaps Satan heard my thoughts himself, because that's when a dark shadow passes over the car just before another crashes into the backseat.

* * *

**_Marina's P. O. V. _**

A straggled _sound_ is all that I can choke out my gagged throat as I'm thrown over the ocean.

Well, almost.

I'm dangling above the choppy waters by my ankles, trying to scream but sobbing instead. The wicked, cruel face of a Mog that seems vaguely familiar is the only thing I can see otherwise, so the sea proves to be more appealing. Even though I try to concentrate on the water, I still see the Mog grinning in evil pleasure.

"Marina of the Sea, I heard," he muses, swinging me back and forth from my dangling position to elicit a louder cry from me, "do you swim as well as your name implies? Perhaps we should test that theory your enhancements can protect you from a thousand foot drop or higher? What do you think, Number Seven?"

I can only shriek again. I'm helpless in this position- I can't teleport free and I can't loosen myself or I'll plummet. It occurs to me I could use telekinesis to push him away or choke him, but he's the only thing holding me above certain death. If I could withstand brutal impact I could breathe underwater, but I wouldn't likely get to that point. I'm literally stuck, and the only way I'll get free is if I get backup or if I cooperate.

_He wouldn't kill me yet..._I feebly try to mentally reassure myself, _I mean...he has to want something. _

"Listen to me carefully," the Mog's smirk is obvious in his voice, "and I'm only going to say this once, so you better listen close. I'm willing to strike a bargain with you- a life for a life, if you will. We can use you to lure out Number Five from her hiding; she escaped our trap, you see. If we retrieve her, then we'll let you go free with rest of your little Garde buddies."

I narrow my eyes as I look back at him, thinking bitterly, _How stupid do you think I am? _

The Mogodorians are set to destroy us Garde, then the humans, then conquer Earth like they did Lorien. We can't let that happen and we have to revive Lorien to his glory, so we have to keep everybody safe just like our own kind. Even if I truly believed the Mogs would do that kind of deal, I couldn't let them just _kill _Emily. If they got her, they'd kill me and the others all at once. We'd all be gone and so would Lorien.

If anybody should have to die, it has to be me.

"What do you say, Marina of the Sea?" the Mog smirks and moves to holding me with one hand, yanking away my gag harshly, "do we have a deal?"

"Go...go rot in hell..." I whisper, my smoke-tainted lungs burning against the lack of proper hair.

His eyes spark, "I was hoping you'd say that."

His hand disappear and I'm sent plummeting to my fate. I snap my eyes shut, then open them again in mid air. I need to at least die with happy things in mind:

The water. Eight. Ella. The other Garde. Adelina. Lorien.

_Lorien, I now die in your honor._

* * *

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

It's been an understatement to call the last few fours torture.

The baby, Michele, and I glided into the ocean. I'm a strong swimmer, but I've had to listen to a baby's screams and bascially carry Michele to shore all of this time. I just now approached the soaked, salty sand, and have collasped totally. It's a public beach, so many people are beginning to gather around and murmur things. A few begin to shake me, but I merely groan and don't lift my face.

"Hey...are you from the plane crash?" a local man who smells like fish inquires, "there your kids or something?"

I simply moan again and whisper, "Go away..."

That's when the worst of my troubles start. Something begins to burn my leg- it's numb at first, but it's quickly becoming much worse. The feeling is all too familiar; I've get out of here. Blinded by sand and my aching being, I stumble back into the water and begin to tread water as quickly as I can. Michele is shouting for me, but her cries are numb as I finally plunge under the water. The salt rips away the agony the salt brings to my eyes and replaces it, but I hardly care as I cry every bit of moisture that remains my body left.

One of us has died, not doubt because of my decision. Lorien is one step closer to disappearing and never returning. I am alone and badly hurt, and I've got no idea where the others are or who died.

All I know anymore is that I am Number Five, and I have to keep a little girl and a baby safe while I find the Garde again. We must reunite, and we all must avenge another fallen Garde.

_I was bred from the start to avenge Lorien and all those fallen with the reward being my planet..._I think as I shut my eyes against Earth for the last time is what is sure to be an enternity, _but this time it's personal. _

* * *

**_Author Note:_**And with that, folks, I conclude "The Hunt of Five"!

**_Do not despair! _**

The sequel is coming VERY VERY soon to an Internet near year, and if I get...hm...twelve reviews on this chapter, I will put up half of the first chapter of the next installment as the epiloque on this form. Please review and tell me everything you liked/hated/love about this story, I really want you all to love the fifth as much you did this!

**_THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU ALL! :D _**


	24. End, But Not For Long!

The Hunt of Five

_**Author Note:**__** Hey guys! **_

This is more of a message than a chapter, but I will put a small expert at the end so I don't get flagged and all that.

**_THE SEQUEL TO THIS STORY IS UP! _**

It is called: "The Retaliation of Seven"!

Please check it out, read, review, favorite, follow...I sound like a Youtuber...:P :P :P.

But anyway, PLEASE! :D :D :D

* * *

_**John's P. O. V.**_

I stare at the utter disbelief as the scar burned raw into my leg.

Four scars of the fallen Loric. Four marks that haunt much deeper than my skin. The fourth mark doesn't belong to me. One of the other Garde has fallen, and we weren't there to help whoever it was.

_Now we only have six. The Lorien Six, just like we thought before Ella…_my thoughts are bitterly sullenly as I touch the fried flesh with my mere fingertips. Six, Nine, Eight, Adam, and I managed to get out from the burning car in time for all of us to be alive; apparently whoever our attacker was only wanted a hide-and-run kind of traumatization.

Six hasn't said a word since our group fight and is now merely curled in a small ball with her face hidden as Nine makes a fire for the approaching darkness. Eight is gripping his fists together tightly with his eyes bored into the ground; he's always been one of the most protective. Adam seems shaken up himself as I bats away unseen enemies in his sleep, his face twisted in inner pain and angst. Nine hasn't said a word, either, so the only noise comes from his starting a natural fire.

I slowly lower myself to my side and close my eyes tiredly. There really is no time for sleep at a time like this, but I have to recollect my thoughts before agreeing on any sort of next move. We finally found Number Five, but now she's gone and quite possibly dead. Marina, Ella, and Sarah are separated, and we're all in the middle of who-knows where with the Mogs finding us all. None of us have trained enough for this since the last attack, and we're hopelessly outnumbered and too weak for a real fight.

_And there's only six Loric left in the universe._

* * *

**_Author Note:_ **Want the rest go? Go to "The Retaliation of Seven." :). Thank you all SO MUCH for ALL of the support on this story, it has been absolutely incredible and I hope the sequel 'rises to fame' like this one did! *Hopeful writer girl face.*

I love you all. :D


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